All I know is that Roman or decimal, life commands that we all grow old.
And heaven help if my nephews lump me in with the geriatrics age group now that I turned another year older. If they do, they'll get written out of the will.
It was a small and yet not terribly quiet celebration last Saturday. The kids hinted at something different so we opted for a nice spread of tapas and stuff. Nelsie brought the wine, Ped had some fried butterfish for Inang who wouldn't have anything to do with the parchment-like serrano, the olives, cheeses, bread, etc. George brought some fruits and a package of torrones. I got a red sweater from Rose and Chong was my helping hand. Thank God for Zabar's for all the prepared food.
Between bites, I helped Nelsie book a flight for Marc's wedding in New Orleans, then get concert tickets under my name for the group called Muse. Alternative band, whatever that means. Nelsie is a master at cryptic texting her long lost classmates with her iPhone but would rather leave the drudgery of searching for flights to her poor aunt. That gives me something to live for in my senior years, doesn't it?
Well, today I got a call from MSG confirming the type of transport assistance I shall need at the Muse concert. Say what again? Me, disabled? How is that possible that I clicked on the patron with disability ticket choice? Ticketmaster will void the tickets with full refund and yet when I got back on queue for replacement all the normal good seats are gone. Nelsie was not amused, I was pissed.
I started a joke (cue: The Bee Gees), I tickled the ivories. Ped and Carol followed the act and you can guess what happened next. These pictures are worth a thousand words and we won't waste precious real estate to elaborate, look closely. You gotta love Carol's techniques, boasting some staccatos and long leaps. Ped was rolling on the floor, I swear! Ay Ave Maria!
Today is my birthday. Chantal and Phyllis sent some homebaked chocolate chip cookies. Although they survived the travel from Texas, they looked a little "deflated" from the trip. Hey, they are soft and chewy, just perfect you'll beg for more! Thanks guys, that was so sweet of you.
This Sunday the fanatics will be watching the Super Bowl looking for some "meaningful football". I'll probably entertain myself with the halftime ads, although searching for meaning is not my goal.
I'm tempted to underscore the similarities.
Life is a bowl of cherries. We take the good with the bad.
Life is a bowl of cherries. We take the good with the bad.
We walk away happy.
