Swimming was my favorite exercise as a child
Loved the freezing cold water even if air was mild
In the late seventies, racquetball became the rage
I drove my new baby to daycare and loved this age
Running was never my favorite thing to do
Maybe I had never found the right jogging shoe
In my mid fifties I exercised at Curves and got into shape
Svelte and jock-like, I could have worn Wonder Woman’s cape
I tore my meniscus while doing yoga at work one day
My new exercise included a bicycle like pedal thing now put away.
I used to be able to outrun my puppy, not anymore, not anymore
Moving with arthritis in both ankles is a drag; I am kind of a bore
I am seventy-two, but some days I feel ninety-four, and I’m not kidding
The devil will probably come by to see if I will do his bidding
I am closer to death than life these days, but I remember the past
When I was limber, cute, sexy, sassy, some might say a bit fast
Those memories keep me going, I like to dream, so I am great at naps
I am not playing racquetball or pickle ball, and I no longer run laps
Many things I used to do daily I have given up on completely
My house used to be tidy, nowadays it is barely a tiny bit neatly
I would love to get back to the good life, when I had the energy of six
But here I sit, in a recliner, out in the country, in a yard full of sticks
My teeth are cracking, for I grind them and I don’t mean a little bit.
At the drop of a Kleenex, I might scream or throw a tantrum fit
My frustration is high, for I remember when life was gloriously grand.
Now I sit here, pining for my old life, eyes traveling from TV set to land.
I have five hobbies
Do them all day long now that I am retired
Cartooning, painting, poetry
Tv binge watching
Playing with my dogs
I used to garden
But my knees won’t bend any more
I swam and played racquetball in my youth
Those days are gone
Falling down is one of my biggest fears
Since I tore my ACL and meniscus
I have two big-butted dogs
I use a walker so they do not knock me down
Being old is not like being young
Do what you can now, while you still have a body
I used to dance until I could dance no more, said Matt.
a knee injury and arthritis in both ankles has stopped that
I used to play racquetball, jumping all around for two hours.
Now I can barely walk outside if there is ice, snow or showers.
Both of these people used to marathon run and skate.
This was done before they both turned seventy-eight.
now they are slower, and use walkers or a cane.
And neither are delighted to go outside in the rain.
Age has changed them, slowed them down you see.
I am right behind them, heading toward seventy-three.
Enjoy life while you are young, they both say to me.
Young? Did they not hear me? I am seventy-three!
I am forming my own wild sports team Grandma said.
We all wondered what in the atmosphere she had in her head.
Racquetball? Hockey? Wrestling? Softball or what?
Not sure yet, she said, but you may make the cut.
What talent would we have to do? Do we have to dance?
I am thinking of something sporty you might see in France.
Croissant maker? Latte’ foamer? We wanted to know.
I will figure it out she told us before the first snow.
We were thinking skiing or jumping out of a plane.
She told us it would be nothing at all that tame.
Our grandma is a hoot, a holler a scream and a kick.
You have to have a sense of humor she said to Uncle Rick.
We knew he did not have one, so he was out.
I know what it is! Cousin Louie said with a shout.
We’re going to be on the first noodle-making USA team.
This made grandma mad, and her nose started to steam.
I bought the Aztec Spirit Shield and an ancient voice began to speak.
She gave me information about the Mexicas, as they called themselves.
Did you play racquetball? I asked her. She said they had a game.
It is a combination of racquetball, soccer and basketball.
The feathered serpent on the shield stared me down.
Did you have slaves?
She laughed.
We could be slaves, and we were.
We could sell our children, and we did.
I tried to not look horrified.
We sold ourselves too, like you do.
We do not sell ourselves! I retorted.
Oh, yes, you do, she told me. You sell yourself up to eight hours a day.
You are as much I slave as we were.
We could buy ourselves back, too, like you do.
Did you like to sacrifice humans?
Of course, we did!
And you had a god?
We had hundreds of them. We borrowed gods from many cultures.
Were men faithful to their wives?
Yes. All of them.
Did you have dentists?
How else could we have filed down our teeth and replaced them with gems?
I gave the shield to a museum soon after purchasing it.
Not wanting to hear more.
Peppermint Christmas angels were doing the cha cha cha.
“What else can you do?” Asked a pinecone name of McGraw.
We can do the petootsie dance, and we can tease our maw.
“What else can you do?” asked a prissy critical macaw.
“We can twirl and spin, and we can make delicious coleslaw.
We can play racquetball and we can spot an editorial flaw.
We can peel potatoes in a fancy way if you get them raw.
We are pretty talented,” said the angels, and we can draw.”
Let’s win the racquetball tournament Carlie said.
What she meant was “let ME win the racquetball tournament”.
My girl-next-door-charms usually hides my super competitive spirit.
This time was like all of the others.
When I won she stopped speaking to me.
No big loss.
SPACE
Our wonderful marriage had three keys!
Love, Compromise and SPACE were these!
So third and last is SPACE that I’ll write for you!
Just in case you need a clue!
JoAnn loved books, painting, jewelry making and knitting
With so many wonderful skills all of them were fitting!
She had many more amazing talents you see
But she still made plenty of time for me!
My career took much of my time you know
But I still needed SPACE for my hobbies to follow
Racquetball, fitness, bowling, poker and bridge were a few
Because I had much that I was motivated to do!
But JoAnn and my family were Priority Number One!
And I wanted to ensure that our whole family had fun!
So life for us was always hectic for sure!
And it was our Love, Compromise and Space principles that made our lives secure!!
My circle is of
fruitflies, houseflies, mosquitos
squirrels, chipmunks, possums
spiders, crickets, ants
parakeets, seagulls, geese
This dance is absent without you
hair, glasses, smile
shirt, pants, shoes
laugh, giggle, talk
Together we were one
hugs, handholding, cuddles
rollerblading, bicycling, racquetball
car rides, lighthouses, kayaking
fishing, dinners, parenting
Thursday, November 4, 2021
They gave me a new cornea, and I saw clearly for the first time.
I saw color, which I had never seen with my old eye.
I was amazed and excited, but then the eye began to talk.
What are you doing? The eye asked.
I was dancing, in a happy, joyful, excited, thrilled mood.
I kicked up my legs for joy.
Stop that! The eye commanded, in an angry way.
A really mean, annoying “mind me” now voice.
I loved knowing for the first time ever
The difference between red and green
But my joy was overshadowed
For this eye is nasty, and never stops commanding
This eye does not like to dance, sing or whistle.
She does not want to run, hike, or play racquetball.
I finally realized when I am swimming she is silent.
I have been swimming for two hours now.
Someone told me that all Smythes are crazy, and I believed them
At first, until I met one
Who was delightful, and kind, and did not generalize people
He gave me a chance, which was a marvelous thing.
For I had not been willing to give him one.
Another told me that old women are dried up.
Not knowing any, I believed it.
Until I became an old woman
And realized I am more excited about life than I have ever been.
I paint, cartoon, dance, play racquetball, and write poetry.
So I am not dried up.
They told me that all white people are stuck up.
I looked at my skin. It is peach not white.
I was relieved, for when they tell me, I usually believe it
Until I meet one.
And realize when we are talking about people
ALL never makes sense.
I should have known this right away.
I am an identical twin, and we agree on practically nothing.
My uncle told me that the Scottish are stingy; I believed him
Because I was young, and I had never met one.
I did not even know what they were.
But then I grew up and had a DNA test.
And guess what? I am Scottish.
And I am not stingy, so I guess that one is out the window too.
My uncle is still smirking about this one.
My crushes are so numerable, it is crazy to try to remember them all.
When I love you it’s in a full blown puppy way, in your lap with Tarzan’s call.
Sky King, Mighty Mouse, Bugs Bunny, The Pink Panther, Howdy Doody.
Yes, I know it is dating me. I also crush on things sweet and fruity.
Cobbler, filled donuts, eclairs, turnovers, any kind of pie especially cherry.
I loved being outside picking fruit, peas, beans, and all kinds of berry.
I crushed on mushrooms fresh from the woods full of tiny ants.
When I got a bit older I crushed on bell bottoms, the hippy pants.
Crush on Elvis, Johnny Cash, John Wayne, Maureen Sullivan and others.
Cannot get enough of Trixie Belden, Nancy Drew, and Agatha Christie.
Love all things shiny dazzling – rhinestones, aluminum foil, names like Trixie.
Attracted beyond belief to Tina Turner, Cher, Bette Midler and Adam Lambert.
A hippie throwback with a green thumb; I love to wear a three tiered skirt.
TV is not my thing at all, but I love to paint, swim, dance, play racquetball.
I love what I love, and I mean for the rest of my life, flat out in a puppy way.
So if you want to be my friend, make sure it’s forever because I don’t play.
black, white, gray, tall, wrinkly, short
Money, broke, bank, racquetball court.
Sandal, beach, woodpecker’s bird call,
Flower, plant, winter, spring, autumn, fall.
I am toying with words, waiting for a poem to surface.
Word association is the way I put my brain on notice.
Red, green, yellow, silver, gold, periwinkle blue.
Owl, hawk, rooster, ugly chickens too
Ankle, knee, joints, wood tick, feather, deer
Word association is okay, but a poem is not yet here.
Being stuck is how I learned I am a cartoonist,
A poet, a writer, a painter.
Being stuck is what makes me
Seek something new that will interest me.
I know when my brain needs something new.
Her dendrites are crying for another language,
vocabulary words, new methods of painting.
I know I must feed her, so she can be the most
creative happy fun-loving dancing self she can be.
This is when I begin learning something new.
I do not care what it is - racquetball, paintball, Harry Potter,
something I did not know about yesterday. To loosen her and
allow her to be the best she can be. I either pick up a book
about something I have never learned or I pick up a hobby. If I have a broken ankle, I click on the History Channel to feed my dendrite highway and retain enthusiasm.
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