i’m becoming my uncle arthur in a few too many different ways…
…not in the “sexual preference” way. and even more fortunately not in the wardrobe sense. and unfortunately not in the epic mustache way (he’s had a pretty killer one since the 70’s). but in the “time disappears” way.
for example, take my conversation with ME today. i was talking about how the amarillo road trip took a bit out of me, which was surprising because i’ve always been a “road dog”, citing my time with star tickets. she felt obliged to point out that this was in the early 2000’s, almost twenty years ago (when she and i first met, and she used to make fun of me for all the time i spent in oklafuckin’homa never knowing she would eventually LIVE THERE).
but in my eyes i was doing it at age 31, so i should have no issue doing it as age 49 looms mere months away.
i get it from my father. he retired at sixty-something, only to get cabin fever (in is eyes literally, because he called his residence “the cabin”, but with an aviary and an elevator that was always a hard sell for me) and he re-entered the work force, towards the end pulling ten to twelve hour days six to seven days a week.
i wonder if that’ll be me?
but i’ve noticed time slipping away. we used my studio for “temporary storage” when the ufc moved in…almost six years ago. it’s still unusable. my home has problems that need to be fixed, some of which have been around since the 1980’s. that’s just sad. i need to start being one of those list-making types so i can get this shit done.
i am totally putting it on my list that i need to make a list of house shit to do…that’s how you start this process, right?