In A Daze I glanced up from my keyboard and realized it is almost June, the middle of the year! Time flies when you’re having fun, or even if you’re not. Since I retired to a life of music and writing (Ahh), I keep track of time differently. I go to bed when I’m tired, get up when I awaken(or the kitties get restless), and know what day it is by my desk calendar. Kim goes to Re-fit classes on Tuesday night, garbage is picked up Tuesdays, I meet friends for dinner on Thursdays, re-cycle goes out Thursdays. My band practices whenever we can. We play out on Friday or Saturday night. Kim is off weekends, so we might do something, but most of the time we just relax. Unless an event arises or my wife tells me, I’m not sure what day it is. It could be the first signs of dementia, but I think it’s just that I don’t care any more.
Anything I care to watch on television, and the lists gets shorter each year, I tape to watch whenever I feel like it. I write a while, practice guitar or keyboards, do research for novels, research songs, social media, all in short sessions repeated throughout the day and night. I could be a hermit; I’m not a social animal, but Kim and I interact throughout the day. She works from home, but her day is half over by the time I usually wake up. Afternoons are free for errands or naps. We try and watch some television together, but she’s in bed by 8:30 and rises at 3:00 a.m. to start work.
I never imagined retirement when I was a chef, or any of the numerous other jobs and professions I’ve worked at: lab technician, sales, factories, oil field worker, demolition, trucking, lawn care, etc. Work seemed the be-all end-all. It’s sweet revenge for all the time lost to earning a wage, and then scrambling for recreation on weekends.
June. It seems it was just January. Of course, I live in Arizona. It’s 100 degrees out now. In January it was only 80. I sit at my desk with a view of the Tortilito and Catalina Mountains and the desert. I see bob cats, birds, javalina, roadrunners, pack rats, ground squirrels, lizards, quail, owls, bats, and hawks outside my window. It’s like living on a nature preserve. You can’t beat it, except maybe on a sandy beach with a view of the mountains.
Taking it Easy. I’ve learned to take it easy. Writing or playing music is relaxation personified. It has never been a job. I don’t sweat the little stuff and don’t worry about the big stuff. If I can fix it, I do. If not, worrying doesn’t help. I worked hard to take it easy, and I’m not about to blow it at this stage.
Oh yeah – Time. Half the year has slipped by, mostly unobserved. I’m sure I missed a few things. I remembered my birthday, my wife’s birthday, and our upcoming anniversary. Other things probably slipped through the cracks. I’m cancelling most of the upcoming writers conventions so KIm and I can take a ten-day Caribbean cruise next spring. Small, local events and book signings are still on the planner, but the big ones take time and money I can better spend on a sandy beach, a cruise ship balcony, or sipping on a cold Pina Colada.
June, and my wife, Kim, is already planning Halloween. It’s a big event at our house. Lots of decorations, spiders, monsters, fog machines, lights and eerie sounds. The 150-180 kids that drop by each year love it almost as much as we do. I call it practice for my next novel.
So far, 2017 has been a great year. A new novel out, The Last Marine, two more almost finished, and the band is really cooking. God willing and the NSA or Homeland Security doesn’t come after me for my internet research, the remainder of the year should be just as good.
Summation. Grok in fullness. Live long and prosper. Don’t sweat the little stuff. Eat more bacon. Love one another. Or, don’t forget that life is for living. Use it wisely. It’s the only one you’ve got.