September 26, 2019
All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on. …
I get asked once in a while how come I don’t get depressed because of the limitations imposed by old age. I find that it is a waste of time worrying about what I can’t do, I concentrate on what I can do.
Of course, I do find a daily nap to be refreshing. I also spend part of my day fulfilling my caregiver duties, I am glad to be able do some good. I also have been rewarded by visits from some of you, my old friends.
So what else? Like most of us there is a lot more that I don’t know than I do know. So, I enjoy the time I have to learn what I can and while keeping up with our troubled world. All in all, I am fine and my days are good as I hope yours are.
Here is a piece I may have shred with you before, if I did it is worth repeating.
- To be so strong that nothing can disturb your peace of mind.
- To talk health, happiness, and prosperity to every person you meet.
- To make all your friends feel that there is something in them.
- To look at the sunny side of everything and make your optimism come true.
- To think only the best, to work only for the best, and to expect only the best.
- To be just as enthusiastic about the success of others as you are about your own.
- To forget the mistakes of the past and press on to the greater achievements of the future.
- To wear a cheerful countenance at all times and give every living creature you meet a smile.
- To give so much time to the improvement of yourself that you have no time to criticize others.
- To be too large for worry, too noble for anger, too strong for fear; and too happy to permit the presence of trouble.
- To think well of yourself and to proclaim this fact to the world, not in loud words, but in great deeds.
- To live in the faith that the whole world is on your side so long as you are true to the best that is in you.
I am strengthened by my weaknesses. I am brave because of my fears. I am greater because of my mistakes. life goes on, forget the past.
For my 40th birthday this year, my wife (the dear) purchased a week of personal training at the local health club for me. Although I m still in great shape since playing on my college football team 25 years ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try.
Called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Belinda, who identified herself as a 26 year old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear. My wife seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started! The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress…
Monday – Started my day at 6:00 am. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth it! When I arrived at the health club to find Belinda waiting for me. She is something of a Greek goddess – with blond hair, dancing eyes and a dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo!! Belinda gave me a tour and showed me the machines. She took my pulse after five minutes on the treadmill. She was alarmed that my pulse was so fast, but I attribute it to standing next to her in her Lycra aerobic outfit I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which she conducted her aerobics class after my workout today.
Very inspiring. Belinda was encouraging as I did my sit ups, although my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time she was around. This is going to be a FANTASTIC week!!
Tuesday: – I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door. Belinda made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air – then she put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile! Belinda’s rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT!! It’s a whole new life for me.
Wednesday: – The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying on the toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn’t try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a GEO in the club parking lot.
Belinda was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other club members. Her voice is a little too perky for early in the morning and when she scolds, she gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying. My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Belinda put me on the stair monster.
Why the hell would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Belinda told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. She said some other junk too.
Thursday: – Belinda was waiting for me with her vampire-like teeth exposed as her thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn’t help being a half an hour late, it took me that long to tie my shoes. Belinda took me to work out with dumbbells. When she was not looking, I ran and hid in the men’s room. She sent Lars to find me, then, as punishment, put me on the rowing machine – which I sank.
Friday: – I hate that heifer Belinda more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic little cheerleader. If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat her with it. Belinda wanted me to work on my triceps. I don’t have any triceps! And if you don’t want dents in the floor, don’t hand me the *&%#(#&**!!@*@ barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich. (Which I am sure you learned in the sadist school you attended and graduated magna cum laude from.) The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and nutrition teacher. Why couldn’t it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?
Saturday: – Belinda left a message on my answering machine in her grating, shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing her made me want to smash the machine with my planner. However, I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight hours of the Weather Channel.
Sunday: – I’m having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and thank GOD that this week is over I will also pray that next year my wife, (the devil), will choose a gift for me that is fun – like a root canal or a vasectomy.
“You can never get all the facts from just one newspaper, and unless you have all the facts, you cannot make proper judgments about what is going on.”
Harry S Truman
She said: Over the years, my husband and I have usually managed to decode the cute but confusing gender signs sometimes put on restaurants’ restroom doors (Buoys and Gulls, Laddies and Lassies, etc.), but every so often we get stumped.
Recently my husband Dave wandered off in search of the men’s room and found himself confronted by two marked doors. One was labeled “Bronco,” and the other was designated “Cactus.”
Completely baffled, he stopped a restaurant employee passing by. “Excuse me; I need to use the restroom,” Dave said. Gesturing toward the doors, he asked, “Which one should I use?”
“Actually, we would prefer you to go there,” the employee said, pointing to a door down the hall marked “Men.” “Bronco and Cactus are private dining rooms.”
You either get bitter or you get better. It’s that simple. You either take what has been dealt to you and allow it to make you a better person, or you allow it to tear you down. The choice does not belong to fate, It belongs to you.
Management is not responsible for duplicates from previous dailies. The editor is somewhat senile.
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