A Senior’s Moment

Hi everyone
You know what would be cool? Having an editor. Just being able to say “I have an editor” would be a buzz. But unless you work for a newspaper or a magazine or write books, and I do not, you don’t need an editor. 
I still want one. 
Not the kind of editor that changes things, although a few suggestions about where to put commas would be good.
No, I want the kind of editor that praises everything I create.
“Mikey, it’s as if the Lord himself speaks through you.”
Is that too much to ask? I’m in that age group where people move south for the winter only to stay inside eating Doritos and watching Netflix. Some play Canasta in the park between shifts greeting customers at Walmart.

Fries With That?

I’m not knocking the “greeters” or the “McJobbers” (on second thought, leave the McJobs for the kids), there are a lot of retired folks that barely eke out an existence and need the money to get by. 
Also, if card games at the park or chips and TV give you pleasure, I say, whatever floats your boat or turns your crank (there’s something a little dark about that one). It’s all good if no one’s injured.

Viennese Schmaltz Express

But I’m not yet ready for ballroom dancing or model railroading.
It’s the golden years. Like most people in my age group, it’s too easy to fall into the “my future’s behind me” trap.
To paraphrase my late boss, Gordon Lightfoot, “You don’t retire. You keep going until nobody wants to hear you”.
Or read you. 

Wise Guy

But my long-time mentor, Irish-Chinese philosopher Foo O’Shit, recently had this to say:
Youth wasted on the old. Big conspiracy by Pepsi-Cola. If you “Think Young,” you make mistakes all over again.