You may have wondered why lifework or life purpose keeps showing up in these entries. Have I become a fierce workaholic who’s blind to other parts of life? Am I stuck on this one matter to the exclusion of others? Could be…. Years ago, I regularly visited residents at a local assisted living facility. I saw a good share of these elderly folks tilted back in their recliners, napping in front ofMORE...
What, me worry (about cicadas)?
Where I live, yards, trees, buildings, cars and even human torsos have become the chosen perches for millions of 17-year cicadas. Their raspy singing fills the soundscape. Still, I’m not concerned about having to share the world with God’s red-eyed insects. As a bona-fide older gentleman, let me tell you why I enjoy cicadas…. Their buzzing/clicking fits my hearing needs. My hearing aidsMORE...
Never a toady?
It’s easy to criticize toadies. They seem sadly lacking in self-respect, fawning over political, entertainment or sports figures who don’t always deserve flattery. Over many years, sycophants have garnered more than their share of public disdain. Their original, 17th century manifestation: Subservient assistants to medical charlatans in Europe. They pretended to being cured—by the self-proclaimedMORE...
This is not a blog!
(The following paragraphs are an explanation for the several weeks’ absence of entries at this site. Perhaps they’re also my confession about some older-adult self-examinations that you, too, might have faced.) I’ll admit it: I’ve never liked the word “blog.” It’s always felt like another one of those 1990-ish terms that lacked heft but somehow made it into our lexicon. (You might also rememberMORE...