My first post

My first post, my first blog, my first on-line type thing at all. How boring and trite to say that I don't have a purpose or an idea, yet there it is.

Today... today I wish more than anything that I was something or someone else. There is sunshine outside, a breeze across damp grass, just a hint of moisture fringing the sidewalks, last nights rain dissipating east and even the footprints it letft behind are fading. Everything feels young. Everything has hope, and a "freshness". Everything but me. I feel old, and trapped and worn thin. Like tread that has taken too many sharp corners, scraped the curb too many times when parking. I feel my little wires poking through, I feel my surface stretched tight with no tension beneath, only tired stale air waiting to escape, not in an explosion, but in a putrid sigh.

There's good in life, of course there is. There are simple little pleasures that I look forward to. There's a small patio, a square on concrete you could barely fit in if you laid down. There a sturdy wooden picnic table, and a red, glass globe with a candle in it, there's a wooed hill to the west, soaking up the sunlight from early afternoon until sunset. There's the shifting shade that the trees throw across that cement slab, that wooden table, that red globe.

But sometimes those little things shudder next to the all the fun and excitement that I know the Young are stirring up just out of sight. I know they're doing it right now, and I know I'm missing it. I'm missing it because I'm old, and aging and getting rounder every minute. And I'm tired, and I want to be irresponsible, but can't. And yes, i would like a side of coleslaw with that big ole helping of self pity.

Maybe it's just summer, maybe that's why i like winter more anyway. Everyone feels old in the winter, everyone covers up and cowers indoors. I think I just crossed the line into grumpy-oldman-hood.

Whatever... whipper-snapper.