2008--Ain't that Great

It’s 2008 and sometimes I feel about the same age. I think it’s because, as I tell my friends, I look a little more like Nick Nolte’s mug shot every morning when I wake up. The songs that defined my generation in the sixties and seventies are now showing up as boxed-set oldies and Easy Rider’s Dennis Hopper is selling investments or something like that on commercials. Would our hip generation ever have foreseen such a thing thirty something years ago? And speaking of thirty-something, wasn’t there a TV show by the same name about a bunch of young, married whippersnappers? This is the kind of useless trivia bouncing around in what’s left of my withering brain unit. Sure, I can remember the words to the song “A Good Breakfast Starts My Day,” that I learned in the second grade, but I can’t remember a very important point I was going to make a second ago. I have more and more conversations that include someone asking me, “Now what were you saying?” I focus for a minute and have to admit, “I’ve got nothin.’”

I have read that depression and stress affects short-term memory more than almost any other factor, and I’ve got plenty of both, especially in the first two months of the year—what drear. Maybe, like the words in the Steely Dan song, “I’m just growing old,” but I can’t remember the last time I was really excited about anything. (Maybe I just forgot.) Upset, yes. Angry, yes. Frustrated and anxious, yes. Morose, yes. Excited, no. Hey, at least I’ve still got feelings. I will have to say that I'm really looking forward to seeing which politician will be selected to send us down the drain. NOT! Wait a minute. "Down the drain" now where did I hear that phrase? It sounds vaguely familiar.

Anyway, Happy Damn New Year!