Milestones

Well, today I have reached a milestone in my life. I have reached the ripe age of 60. To all of you folks that have also reached this milestone and made the statement "I don't feel 60", screw you! I want you to know, I feel 60! Physically that is. My friggin' knees hurt, my back hurts and yeah, there's a little dry skin!
The worst part to this is that mentally, my age ranges from 17 to about 24. This means I see stuff and I want to do it. That's when my support group comes in. My wife who warns me about breaking a hip, my daughter who giggles exuberantly and tells me "you're silly Daddy" and of course, Noob the wonder dog who runs me down the street. He can't talk so that's his way of saying "stop it old man".

There are certain advantages to age though. For instance, I can be goofy (er) in public now and people think it's cute. I can also just speak my mind and not worry about being politically correct or worrying about hurting the feelings of some overly-sensitive little prick.
I can wear what I want for the most part without wondering if it's hip. Virtually EVERYTHING I wear is hip...well, it was in other time periods. I'm just pissed that I threw away my paisley-print Nehru jacket! Now THAT would have been one helluva fashion statement.
I've gotten lots of well-wishes from my very dear friends on FaceBook. I actually know some of them too! Same with all my other social networks. I have more birthday greetings than I know what to do with. At the same time, I can fake being confused and let thanking everybody wait for a few days. That seems to be the secret weapon of the elderly...one of them at least. I'm learning them quickly and I have to say, old people have been pulling this shit and completely fooling the world.

For instance, whenever I fly or use the train now, I carry my cane. I don't need it, but I found that if an older man carries one, nobody rushes them and the better seats are usually up for grabs. The first time my son met me at the airport and I had my cane, he freaked out and immediately took my bag. As soon as I told him the reasons behind it, he handed it back to me. Another ploy is to stand in the middle of the aisle at the supermarket and squint at the boxes. You can expect someone to grab your shopping list and fill your cart in minutes. With any luck, you can hear them cursing your loved ones for not taking better care of you.
Admittedly, my eyes have gone south from all the computer working, so I wear reading glasses. Not real reading glasses, the ones you get in the dollar store. Just the same, I can say I don't have my glasses and get people to read to me. Yes, old folks have been playing us for years.

But to be fair, there are limits now that I didn't have before. Roller-coasters are out now. In fact, anything that spins, twists, zips or loops is out. Log flume rides are still working for me though. Swimming is a little different too. I used to be able to swim the length of a pool underwater. Now, I'm lucky if I can do a quarter of the pool. I'm pretty sure that's a result of cigarettes, but still, if not for all the years I spent smoking them I'd be fine.
I quit smoking four years ago and got my taste buds back. Now I just wonder if food tastes bad because I'm old or because it always tasted like that and I just didn't know. I can climb stairs without sounding like Darth Vader now, but my knees hurt when I get done.
There are pros and cons to getting old, just like everything else. It sounds odd, but the longer you've lived, the more memories you have. I'm not sure if they seem so great because you can remember them or because they are reminders that you've done so many great things.
Your common sense takes over when you get older too. If something is stupid (planking, ass-level waistbands, skateboarding down steps), you realize it's stupid no matter how many people do it. Instead, you get to remember the stupid things you've done in your life and thank your maker that you are still alive.

You get to retire too. No more getting up to drag your ass to work. You can do whatever you want or nothing at all. You can wear pajamas all day and nobody can say anything because, you've earned the right!
So when they bring out that birthday cake tonight, and the candles are so bright that the space station reports seeing them, I'll be one happy old geezer. I've lived a good life, grew up in a great place with tons of friends, made lots of choices, some good and some not so good but none regretted and forged the life that was best for me.
Now, as this article slips to the ending, I'm going to put on Frank Sinatra singing "My Way", grab my cane and glasses and make my way to the supermarket to get some young chippie to do my shopping for me. After that, I might go to the park and toss a chicken sandwich to the squirrels and eat some peanuts.

North Carolina is NOT Florida

So, part one of my move is finished and New York is just a bad memory. Wonderful people have accepted us here in North Carolina till we get straightened out, but North Carolina itself is not holding her arms open for us. She is however, holding her hands open for us to drop money in. It seems, nothing comes easy in NC.

North Carolina is a beautiful state. There's no mistaking that. Even though there is no tar on my heels or even on my soles for that matter, I can see the untapped potential for a writer here.
The scenery is spectacular, and the people are all so nice. Of course, it could be a sugar rush from the sweet tea, but I'm raring to go. I'm waiting to take in everything, and eventually I'll get to it. But, there are a few dozen things I need to do before I can explore.
There is the North Carolina DMV lurking over my shoulders, just waiting for me to attempt to even start my car. The ticket books are poised.
At least that is what I'm told. I am not yet ready to find out either. I firmly believe that you should live somewhere for at least a year before you obtain a criminal status. That's where New York screwed up. I wasn't there more than four hours before cops started handing me tickets.

It was as if radar went off somewhere and the warning of an out-of-state license filled all of them with visions of monthly ticket quotas. They flocked to me, setting road-blocks and bringing the dogs out to track me. They even had the boat cops patrolling the shoreline just in case.
I got 3 bullshit tickets for no registration, no insurance and no license. Not that we didn't have all of that, we just didn't have it with us. So just provide proof and the ticket gets dropped. Right.
We provided proof TWICE and now, 11 years later, they are still there. Yes, New York has a special kind of ineptitude.
Now in Florida, where I will be in a few months, I can go to the DMV and surrender my PA license, show proof of identity, pay $48.00 and walk out with a new Florida license. In North Carolina, I have to surrender my PA license, take the driver's test, pay at least $200.00 or better and then get a new NC license. Guess who ain't getting a NC license?
My wife is a licensed CNA. New York has the strictest guidelines and tests to get that license. In Florida, all she has to do is fill out paperwork and transfer it. In North Carolina, she has to fill out paperwork, take the test (which costs $101.00...don't ask what the extra fucking dollar is for) and maybe get a new license. Guess who ain't getting a NC CNA certificate?

 I'm not quite sure what all this money is for. The website says, these funds go towards keeping the state sales-tax free. My friends say they pay sales tax. They pay property tax, income tax, pet tax, car tax, school tax and sales tax. They pay taxes out the wazoo.
Somebody is making a lot of money, but it's not going where it's supposed to go. You should know, that I expect the government to steal. I expect them to steal the pennies from a dead man's eyes, but goddamnit, you need to give a break somewhere. You have to. Otherwise, you're no longer stealing like a well-dressed governmental career criminal, you're just a common mugger. A filthy mugger.
Now in Florida, I'm pretty sure the government officials steal too. However, they do have no sales tax. You need to throw the people a bone. North Carolina needs to figure this out yet. But you can't blame them. This is probably new to them...after all, North Carolina is the home of the legendary Mayberry. Sheriff Andy Taylor and Deputy Fife.

Andy, Barney, Opie and Aunt Bea gave the people in the dirt-boxes of Philadelphia, New York and Boston a look at the quaint life-style of North Carolina. In all honesty, I didn't really expect Mayberry when I planned this. Hell, I wasn't even expecting Mount Pilot.
But life outside of Raleigh is the same as life outside of Manhattan. Just hotter. And every bit as greedy. And that just doesn't sit well with the memories of that beautiful little town we all loved so much. It's what happens when you let Otis, Floyd and Goober pick the elected officials. It's just wrong.
But, Florida is the next and final stop for my crazy train. It's where I've wanted to be for the last ten years and now, it's on the horizon. The sights and sounds of the Cuban community, the celebrities on South Beach, swimmin' pools, movie stars...oh wait, that's Beverly Hills. But Florida is where I'm heading. We'll be living in Hialeah, laughing at the scenes of those New York winters and at the open hands of the greedy North Carolina DMV.