AND THEN I REALIZED ----

 

AND THEN I REALIZED, I WAS-----

 

Sitting in an easy chair with a hot cup of coffee watching my three great granddaughters open their Christmas presents, I began to realize…I was happy and having fun.

When was the last time you had fun? At some point in our lives our friends came to our doors to play for the last time, and we didn’t even think about it. What happened? When did we stop playing and having fun?

I know, we all got caught in that thing called life. Making a living, nose to the grindstone, shoulder to the wheel, eyes on the prize, all that other nonsense. And along the way, we got so consumed with ourselves we forgot to just stop and smell the roses. My dad used to tell me…’Don’t send me roses I can’t smell’. It has taken me a long time to figure out what he meant.

I remember being in Korea (after the war) and the people were so poor. No television, no telephone, no cars, no banks, no department stores but they were happy. They smiled and laughed and talked to each other and I thought to myself….how is this even possible? Don’t they even know what they are missing? I mean we have credit cards and lawn mowers ….I don’t think I ever saw a lawn much less one that needed to be mowed. I went to a Korean wedding once with food that was unbelievable and dishes I never asked what they were before I ate them. Several of them were fantastic until I found out what was in it. The event lasted all weekend and even though most of us couldn’t understand a word of the conversation, we had the time of our lives.

No, somewhere between then and now, which is a long, long time, I forgot to have fun and play. Like most of us, that are waiting until we can retire to enjoy life. Why shouldn’t we be enjoying every day that passes as if it were to be our last one?

Last night we sat down, popped some popcorn and watched a silly Christmas movie. My cheeks hurt from laughing this morning. When is the last time you switched off the doom news channels and watched something that made no sense but made you laugh? I bet it’s been a long time.

When’s last time you drug those old Monopoly games or Clue out of the closet and asked your neighbors over to drink coffee or wine and just play some games, no heavy talk, no television just communication with family or friends.

You were doing that very thing when your neighborhood pals knocked on your door to ask you to ride bikes or play ball with them. You talked, you laughed, you forgot about school or the yard you needed to mow, and you had fun. You were happy.

Don’t quit just because you’re old. Wear funny hats and clothes, no one cares any longer about the things you do when you’re old. They just think you’re going through your second childhood.

And that’s a very good thing, isn’t it?

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year…see you next week Peary Perry

HOW MUCH IS ENOUGH?

 

HOW MUCH IS ENOUGH?

Two authors, Joseph Heller and Kurt Vonnegut were at a cocktail party hosted by a very wealthy person. Heller asked Vonnegut ‘How does it feel to know this guy makes more money in one year than you will ever make in your lifetime with your books?’

Vonnegut responded by saying ‘He will never have something I’ve got’.

Heller was caught off guard and asked…’What is that ?’

Vonnegut replied..’Enough’.

So, how much is enough?

We see families of very wealthy people torn apart even though they have more money than they can ever spend. We read of lottery winners who are tormented by their massive riches and it’s responsibility and are broke again in a few years.

I say again, how much is enough?

Who needs or can use 15 cars, or 15 houses scattered over the world?

Who has 150 or 200 close ‘friends’ to occupy those vast buildings or otherwise they would seem cavernous and very lonely?

I have been around a number of wealthy friends over these past 80+ years and believe me when I say, they know who the suck-ups are and those who only take and mooch never giving in return. Most of my wealthy friends were also paranoid in thinking that everyone only wanted to be their friend for access to their resources. They found it exceedingly difficult to truly trust anyone.

If you are wealthy enough to own 15 cars and love to collect them as a passion, then good for you. I appreciate the fact that you have the resources to do this, but more things mean more potential issues, doesn’t it?

What does it take to keep them operating, how to secure, how to maintain, how to insure?

Owning a boat is the same, here comes a hurricane, watch out. Divide the number of times a year you actually go out in your boat by the amount of money spent for insurance, upkeep, fuel, food and dock fees. Better yet, don’t do that, it will only depress you.

I have a friend who owns 2 Bentleys, I love him like a brother, but he has to worry about where to park since jealous people key his car if it’s in an unsecure place. He pays extra for personal parking spaces in crowded areas. No one bothers an old truck, and we get there just the same, don’t we?

We watch those old English movies where the waiters or staff are always standing around waiting to pour the wine or another heaping amount of asparagus. I wonder if they really acted in this manner or is this fiction? It would seem weird to me to have servants listening in or hearing our family or marriage discussions. Besides, who wants to eat dinner dressed up like you do for a funeral? I eat dinner some nights in my pajamas. I suppose that would be frowned upon in many societies.

Now that I am retired, I find I am vastly over clothed. This means I have too many suits, sports coats, dress shirts and power shoes. I probably need 1 suit and sport coat and a good pair of black shoes. I can’t find any place in a town of 257 that requires me to dress up. Blue jeans, boots and a long sleeve shirt just about covers any place within 100 miles of here.

Same with our house, we have 1 guest bedroom. So, no more large groups can stay with us. But you know what?  We get to know people in smaller groups than we did when there were gobs of them for the weekend. You have time to talk and share and actually hear other people who are really conversing with you.

I am a blessed man, I have enough.

See you next week, Merry Christmas…. Peary Perry

 

 

PARDON ME, BOY....

 

PARDON ME, BOY----

You would think that life with age gets easier and better, wouldn’t you?

Well, Bunky it doesn’t seem to be that way at all. In fact, I think I am more confused now than I was 40 or 50 years ago.

For example, is coffee good for you or bad for you? How much exercise is enough?

Do I need 4 hours or 8 hours of sleep every night? Are cell phones dangerous to my brain or not?

What in the world are microplastics and what can I do about them?

On top of all of this nonsense we have a new term to deal with, which is cultural appropriation. This current trend seems to suggest that I am only supposed to observe or use the customs, morals and practices derived from my native county.

So, my question is this? What is my native country?

I’m an American mutt. My last name really gives you no clue as to where any of my folks came from. If your name is O’Reilly, Gomez, or Goldstein you might have a idea as to your family origins. Even the name such as Smith or Miller can be traced back to some craft or trade that your ancestors were involved with.

But Perry? Where was this and what did it derive from? Oh, I’ve done the Ancestory.com thing and gotten a paper that says I’m part Scottish, German, English, Irish and Nigerian? Like I said, I’m a mutt.

So how is a mutt supposed to act if he can’t go to a Mexican or Chinese restaurant since he isn’t from that culture? Is this what they mean by cultural appropriation? I like those foods. I always have. I can’t think of any food from any country that I don’t like. I had Russian food one time in New York City and I hope I didn’t make any Russians mad when I paid for the meal. They didn’t seem to object one little bit.

Is St. Patrick’s day only for the Irish? How about Cinco de Mayo?

We are having a national discussion aboutt immigration in this country. I am not going to get into the pros and cons of this argument at this time. Face it, we are a nation of immigrants and isn’t it better for all of us to learn about the culture of those around us? Doesn’t that make us better able to understand others that are from different countries and backgrounds?

At this stage of life, I suppose I am too old to change my habits. I am going to continue to eat tacos and corned beef and even borsch if I want to do so.

They will have to throw me out and refuse to take my credit card. Then I guess I will be stuck with bread and jelly or dog food, for the mutt that I am.

Aren’t we all a bit ridiculous sometimes?

See you next week….Peary Perry