Sunday, March 15, 2015

I need some advice

nice tree

I’ve noticed that most all advice columns are oriented for women.  I know men do know how to read and beside you can find advice via podcasts today.  It not like guys don't have ups and downs like everyone.  Is it really true that men detest advice?  Don’t tell me, I know where I’m going.

I never cared much for advice columns or books.

It seems the closest I get to advice is a how-to reference. Always solution focused.

Maybe it’s just adjusting to this retirement thing. Retirement does not have a precise definition. It certainly doesn't mean being able to do anything and everything one might find interesting or wanting to do. Sure the amount of free time has expanded but just free time doesn’t fix the necessary adjustments.

My wife shared a recent story that was sent her way via a friend. It has been emailed around for awhile so you might have seen it. Fun wordplay.

We always used to spend the holidays with Grandma and Grandpa. They used to live in a big brick house, but Grandpa got retarded and they moved to Arizona. Now they live in a tin box and have rocks painted green to look like grass. They ride around on their bicycles, and wear name tags, because they don't know who they are anymore. They go to a building called a wreck center, but they must have got it fixed because it is all okay now, they do exercises there, but they don't do them very well. There is a swimming pool too, but they all jump up and down in it with hats on. At their gate, there is a dollhouse with a little old man sitting in it. He watches all day so nobody can escape. Sometimes they sneak out, and go cruising in their golf carts. Nobody there cooks, they just eat out. And, they eat the same thing every night - early birds. Some of the people can't get out past the man in the dollhouse. The ones who do get out, bring food back to the wrecked center for pot luck. My Grandma says that Grandpa worked all his life to earn his retardment and, says I should work hard so I can be retarded someday too. When I earn my retardment, I want to be the man in the dollhouse. Then I will let people out, so they can visit their grandchildren.

Everybody’s texting at me. 

I don’t a read a word they are texting. 
Only the echos of my mind.

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