Living Within Reality

There are some things, I don’t want to know…

I get monthly e-mails from the folks who hold onto my money. I don’t like the whole concept of losing money…so I just don’t look.

Last week I went in for my regular physical. On the way in, they make you stand on the weight scale. Thank God it was metric. I flunked that whole part of my elementary education. Thought it was un-American. I embrace pints, gallons and pounds. The nice nurse who watched my pandemic-bloated body waddle onto the scales was nice enough to ask: “Do you want me to tell you how many pounds that equates to?”

“No,” I said curtly. “And don’t tell me how many kilograms or mega-tons I’ve gained since last year.”

There are things I want to know. Will there be football at the Train Yard this fall? When can I have a Matt Kinney pork chop at a noontime Rotary meeting again? Why won’t I use my treadmill? And of course the most disturbing question…..when will I grow out of all of my pants?

My kingdom for a Saturday morning porkburger….a Friday evening at the Elks or Sunday morning listening to the choir.

In her book “Minutes Before Sunset,” author Shannon A. Thompson captured the feeling.  I’m paraphrasing her….she wrote she wasn’t sure which was worse:

….being oblivious or… living within reality.