Heading Into Full Geezerhood

I’m gonna share a little secret.  Next February, I’m gonna be 67 years old, and I see full geezerhood creeping up on me (or, am I creeping up on it?).  It’s the whole nine yards: laying around the house all day, wearing the same old clothes everyday, going an extra day without a shower, thinking “I didn’t do shit today, why shower?”  And then there’s never leaving the house unless ya have to, like when ya run out of wine, and then, making a nuisance of yourself when out there in public.  In general, driving The Wife crazy.

That’s why I’m glad I still go to work part-time.  It makes me get outta the house, clean-up (even shave), and put on some clean clothes.  So work is a good thing, or so think some people in my house.  Don’t get me wrong.  Work ain’t the panacea for all one’s ills.  Nope!  That’s because most people who have a job end up working for ass-holes.  And these ass-holes work for even bigger ass-holes above them.  Now these ass-holes don’t think they’re ass-holes.  Hell No!.  They think that we at the bottom are ass-holes, and it’s their job (and moral duty) to make sure we don’t frolic and play all day, but work our asses off so they can make a hole lot of money.

Anyway, and that potty-mouth rant aside, entering Geezerhood is kinda fun.  Me and a couple of my other retired buddies (all Geezers themselves) have an agreement:  If a job at home is just too big, there’s always help just a phone call away.  If ya want some help lifting or moving something, and don’t wanna risk orthopedic surgery as a result, call one of us.  Because you got a Two-Geezer Job.

My retired teacher buddy (who is also an avid gardener of fine medicinal herbs) called me yesterday.  He needed some help lifting a new microwave, so he could fasten it under a cabinet above his stove.  He had a Two-Geezer Job.  Twenty years ago he could have done it himself, but at age 63?  No way!  Having an extra geezer around turned what could have been a real pain in the ass, not to mention possible trip to the Emergency Room, into an easy five minute job.

We spent the next fort-five minutes out in his back shed in recovery.  And fully recover we did.   I like Two Geezer Jobs.