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Discussion in 'Bad Dog Cafe' started by John Backlund, Sep 14, 2020.
Oh, I don't know, it might help you keep track as your mind starts to go.
I don't mind mowing the yard. I started mowing yards at 12 to make money. It kind of reminds me of my youth.
When my ole man got out of the Air Force he got a job with the USPS delivering mail. He would ask every older person on his route if they needed a kid to mow the lawn. That kid was me.
My senior realization the other day:
I bought myself a new pickup for my 60th birthday a month ago.
Driving home I realized that, though I'm hoping to retire in 2.5 years, I had just signed myself up for 5 years of payments. D'oh.
Not to be a downer but we ARE on sobering thoughts?
I’m not sure I want to make 86 because chronic pain at 60 is hard enough to take.
But hey, maybe med tech finally fixes all our ills!
I’d need a lot of new joints, might be cheaper to transplant my brain into a fresh cloned body.
Course, my brain ain’t the best either...
But I still got a good attitude about life and humanity!
That means I’m nuts?
No not me don’t shoot me I’m only the guitar player!
Looking forward and seeing the end, yet still nobody understands you!
Start a punk band...
I just turned 67 and retired last month. I might as well enjoy the time available to me now. Also, I have no lawns to mow.
I adhere to the suggestion: "careful what you wish for, you just might get it".
Now and then struggling through a high pain day I ask: Why Me?
Then I remember that much of the pain is related to accidents that could easily have killed me.
Yeah I’m good with having stuff to complain about...
It finds us all, eventually.
Hmmmm. Now that I think about it, that explains a lot.
My youthful mowing days didn't involve this sort of relative decadence....by the way, every single powered vehicle seen in this kinda old photo is gone...except that mower.
He was the second in a short period to fail at self medicating. It does really suck.
I said Panties not semiphor flags,
my sobering thought for the day ...a sign at the cemetery.
"Welcome. Everyone else is dying to get in "
Social Security says you're most likely to make it to 85.
So don't sell that lawn mower too early.
"Well, you didn't think we were just gonna let the grass grow did ya?"
"Who's we, suka?"
"Briggs and Stratton and me."
I'm 77 and I played 27 holes of golf on Sunday, then came home, ate supper, then my wife, Alex, and I took a mile and a quarter walk. Even with all that, the statistics show that I'm on my last leg, and probably will crap out in the next two or three years. The men in my family all died early the oldest living to 56 so I'm used up a lot more time than they did. I've been on borrowed time for 21 years, but I ain't complaining!
I'll get to 70 in late November, just a little before you.
We were thinking of getting another dog - haven't had one around for a few years - but I wouldn't want to outlive it. Maybe it's time to look for an older rescue?
They’ve got those robotic lawnmowers now ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Does the same thing happen to them when they run over dog/cat poop/puke as it does Roomba robotic vacuums?