The Rest Stop

 

I am getting older. I don't want to admit it, but I am. If you are older, you need to plan rest stops. Especially, if you drive for a very long period of time. Don't worry though, your old body will tell you when it is time and listening to your old body is a good thing. Not listening, well let just say, a bad thing. However, you can listen to your body but urge to purge could be stuck between the bladder and your little friend. Okay your big friend. Your average friend? Your friend in low places. Sometimes the flow don't want to go. You want to sing oh what a beautiful morning but the song is different when the flow don't wanna go. Maybe sometime this morning would be better choice. A very long old American standard sung by a very old urinal crooner. Really, sometimes it's like pushing an avocado pit through a straw. Luckily, I still have a good flow. You didn't need to hear or care about that but wait, something good is going to come out of this or that, hopefully.

When I was a young man I could put out a campfire with you know, pee. Now I wonder if I can put out a match. Oh, the youthful days by the stream, splashing, making ripples, waves and pulverizing the urinal puck. Oh it's was fun being young competing in the porcelain games. However, it is a fierce competition. It's for this reason, I don't use the urinals. The whole pre-race ritual of breathing and positive self talk, goes down the drain (the only thing that goes down the drain) if someone stands beside me. It goes from I got this to I got nothing, real fast. It's not that I'm afraid some guy beside me is going to see my stuff. That wouldn't happen. Because my stuff is hidden by a wall of porcelain. Dejected by my own stupid insecurity, I zip it and go to the stall.

I'm in the stall and I know there's some young punk in the next stall because I hear, Niagara Falls. I got to compete. I'm not washed up. I got this. I muster enough force but it's too late my penis knows I can't compete. So I get two toilet paper rolls and put them under both knees. Kneeling, I think. I got this. This kids going down. The closer you get to the surface the bigger the splash, I thought. Think again. And then there is the sounds of silence. Not the song the kid next door is done and he is on to me. There's  knock on the stall door. The kid says Hey are you okay man. Now any hope is shriveled up and dry. 

My response. Just praying. 

 

Baby Boomers

 I am a late blooming baby boomer. That just means I didn't get busy until I almost couldn't get busy. 

What a weird name. Baby boomers. What if they all instead of dying from cancer and heart attacks, they just one day died of natural causes. You know. Exploding. Just random people walking down street. Just exploding. Zombies you can outrun but that overweight bald guy walking beside you. A ticking time bomb. 

Nothing but booming boomers everywhere. No mask is going to save you. Better pack a slicker. The hell with the weather, you got bigger unnatural natural disasters waiting for you.

And walking down the street is no walk in the park either. Hey look! there's my old pal George. You shake George's hand and he explodes. The only thing left of George, is in your hand, his hand.

Texting while driving suddenly doesn't seem like a big deal. Waiting a red light, a bit bigger deal. Especially, if the windows are down. Suddenly, the punk with the boom box is tolerable. That old lady beside you driving with her nose and two hands at ten and two. The ultimate boom box. Well lets hope you see green before an over abundance of red.

And going to the show is no picnic. Now you have a roomful. There you are on a date. The movie is a thriller and so is ever seat in the place. Suddenly, you hear a boom. You think its on the screen and it is. It's on the screen, on the chairs, on the floor, everywhere. Honey, can you pass me the bloody popcorn, is literally, bloody popcorn. Never mind.

Going out for dinner. You can might as well comment with this place blows on yelp. It's your bloody food and the bloody wait staff.  And for once it's not there fault. It's the guy answering the phone. He left out one important question. How many in your party? Is a good question. What time? A good question. How old are you and the people coming with you? Should probably be the first question. I'm sorry sir we are full.  And don't think you can just walk in. Trust me they can see you coming. They don't mind seeing going as long as you are going outside. I'm sorry sir, we are full. You look and see an empty restaurant.  Ya, I see you're full of something, let us sit! The guy barks back I'm sorry sir, we can not seat you for insurances purposes. You yell Insurance purposes? This place blows as you walk out the door and blow up.

Going to see a comedian is an adventure. Dying laughing, which never happens, is now a possibility. After the show your fellow comedian friends are drinking at the bar. The all say the same thing Man I killed out there tonight. Oh yea what's the body count?

I am a baby boomer and suddenly watching my blood pressure don't mean shit. Eating a healthy diet same thing. Spontaneous combustion is nothing compared to this. You can't stop, drop and roll this shit out. I would really like to one day have the courage to do stand up. My biggest fear is not stage fright. It's the one night a I stand out there and really bomb.