What is the old man to do? The Quick Aging Syndrome (QuA) will have its way. Ever more rapidly this spring the wear and tear of the years exert their influence. March, I thought at the end of February, would be a productive month. The early onset of spring would return the spring to my step, enhance my observations of nature, people and affairs, and brighten my outlook on tomorrow.
Now the Equinox has been and gone, the month nearly done. Week after week I lag behind, caught up in this and that, starting new and frustrating computer projects, getting caught up in crossword puzzles and always more puzzling reports on the television news. The old man’s legs get weaker, stairs become pitfalls and the body refuses to follow his orders. He must choose. Will he laugh or will he cry? He elects to succumb to a chortle, mixed perhaps with a tinge of resentment, as the only way forward, accepting the inevitable and enjoying his general freedom from pain and sorrow in the independence of a comfortable home with his wife of sixty years.
All the projects are still there. The computer still responds. Current dreamscapes have become less notable, and the old man resorts to the occasional scribble from old journals. Here is one from
We met quite by accident. Both of us were late for the movie and we dashed for the ticket centre at the same time. We bumped into each other but she immediately turned to me, beamed her slightly lop-sided smile, insisting, “You first, sir, you were ahead of me.”
She had me. This had to be the most appealing Julie Andrews of my movie-going experience. Neither of us was that young but she had obviously taken good care of herself. She was wearing a rich looking fur and wore her darkish blonde hair in a soft sensibly curled short style and moved so vivaciously she could be none other than the movie star.
I could not believe my luck. “Why don’t we settle it be letting me invite you as my guest?” I said, hoping she wouldn’t misinterpret my offer as an unwanted affront. To my surprise she accepted. I bought the tickets, she took my arm and we had the doorman show us an unoccupied back row so as not to disturb the other patrons.
She inspected me carefully with smiling sidelong glances for a while, then relaxed to enjoy the show after I helped her drape her fur coat around her shoulders so she could be more comfortable.
It was a new movie being previewed in one of the theatres participating in
As she continued to relax she became drowsy and even apologized with a smile that left me weak when she leaned her head against my shoulder. I was her unresisting slave. After closing her eyes for a few minutes she turned those great big eyes up at me. They were widely set apart in that perfectly shaped face and when she spoke the generosity of her mouth came into my focus. “Do you like it?” she asked. I turned sideways to answer. She was so close. Her slightly parted lips were so inviting. I simply couldn’t resist. I gently leaned further and kissed her softly. She didn’t resist. She smiled at me again when I leaned back. Not a word was said but she took my hand from the seat beside her and placed it around her shoulder. I pulled her gently closer and she reached for my other hand …
What brought about the presence of the lady in my dreamscape that long ago morning was a mystery then, as she had been farthest from my thoughts and I had not seen any of her movies for some time. Perhaps she was just an early symptom of my already developing QuA Syndrome some 19 years ago now. Anyway, it will give Post readers, if any, an opportunity to amuse themselves at the old man’s expense as he offers it as what is likely to be the only issue for the month of March 2010.
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