Senior Moments
As this webmaster starts to turn the corner on middle age, small things such as glasses and keys often wander off to places unknown. Often their hiding places are so obvious that I have to just shake my head and wonder. Last week after frantically searching for my keys they were found . . . in my pocket. Funny how the mind can retain and recite entire Service ballads yet slips a sprocket when small items are misplaced. Utah Phillips writes, "Better a rude vigor than a polished finality".
So let age come with all of its frailties, selective memory is better then none at all. And say, where did I lay . . .
My Specs
by Robert W. Service
Alas! I fear that everyday
My family I vex,
As crustily they hear me say:
"Where have I put my specs?"
I hunt them here, I hunt them there,
I search each likely spot;
I ought to have an extra pair,
But somehow I have not.
I Probe the arm chair, turn the bed,
I grovel on the floor;
I mumble, grumble, scratch my head,
And search my pockets o'er.
I revisit the toilet seat, And oh the time that passes,
As I this litany repeat;
"Where are them goddam glasses?"
Says Ma " Where did you leave them last?"
Such dumbness floors me flat.
Says I: "I'd find them mighty fast
If I could tell you that."
Yet though I'm deacon of the Church
I cuss - you may suppose,
When Ma says"Pa, why don't you search
your nose?"
From " Rhymes of A Rebel" 1953"
