ABFA Celebration and Oldism

I didn’t post yesterday (you are welcome) but I can’t let the momentous nature of that day go by without comment. Yesterday was the day of birth of the young lady who grew up to be the Absolute Best Family Athlete or ABFA to readers of Frail Deeds. She not only grew into a fantastic young lady but she picked up the tags of superb wife and wonderful mother as well. We all know she conquered the title of my Favorite Daughter in Law on an August afternoon in Nashua a few years ago. The BRS and my son created a birthday cake for her yesterday which, while not an artistic success, made up for that in heart. The BRS had to be bribed with a plateful of goldfish crackers to keep her at bay until the cake was ready for serving. We’ll be gathering on Sunday to celebrate as a family and hopefully there’ll be another cake which will fall under the severing stroke of Bonecrusher.

Birthday Girl and her Cake

Giggling with BR3

I’ve written before about how strange it feels to be this old. I mean, it sure as hell beats the alternative, but it’s been a revelation to be this old and realize how different it is compared to expectations. Maybe I’m weird (shut up Cantankerous Friend) but I still have the same impulses and desires as a much younger version of myself. I always thought I would descend into some sort of wise senior status, taking life as it came but that couldn’t be further from the truth. If anything, I’m more ambitious with what I want to get done. Of course, that could be a realization of the reduced time ahead but I’m not sure. I find it startling to think those cherished old aunts and uncles still thought like the young men and women who fought World War 2 when I knew them. I know it’s the First Friday of the week and maybe I’m waxing too philosophic but there it is. For those of you approaching your senior years, fight to keep the youthful sprit, even if, as in my case, the body isn’t totally prepared to back whatever play you have in mind. Go down fighting. As the poem I stole the title of this blog from states, “Do not go gentle into that good night.  Old age should burn and rave at close of day”.

Speaking of going down fighting, I binge watched the last few episode s of Season 3 of the Netflix series You last night. I’ll warn you ahead of time if you’re a fan of the series, don’t watch the third from the last episode if you don’t have time to watch all three because it is a rollicking road to the finale. The two psychopaths settle down for parenthood and married life in an oppressive Californian suburb. You know this isn’t going to end well especially after the first episode’s bloodletting. It’s weird to have two very dangerous anti-heroes as the lead characters but it works in a very bizarre way. Especially with the female lead, who goes from bubbly to homicidal in a snap. Her deadpan stare is the stuff of nightmares. It also offers a withering send up of California new agism which is always a delight. I won’t ruin the ending for you, only to say it’s amazing.

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RECURRING CHARACTERS                                           

BR3 – granddaughter #3, BRS - Blog Reader the Sequel - second granddaughter; FBR - First Blog Reader - first granddaughter, ABFA – Amazing Best Family Athlete = my daughter in law; Wingman – my son in law; Wingmom – Wingman’s mom, of course; Keene Friends 1 & 2 – friends since high school from my home town of Keene, NH; Soxfather - my brother in law; Great Aunt - my elder sister; Cantankerous Friend – friend since grade school who likes to argue about everything, poses as radical leftist to attract women; Kindergarten Friend – friend since kindergarten whom I reunited with after many years; Pittsburgh College Roommate– high school friend, also a “Minor Celebrity” in Pittsburgh; Deckzilla – our backyard deck which grew to monstrous dimensions once my wife got involved in planning; Maine and Virginia Musqueteras – two close friends of my wife – her US sisters, my wife is the 3^rd musquetera (musketeer); Riggins - also known as the Grandpuppy, son's dog; PanaGals – female relatives /friends of my wife from Panama; Panamanian/Latin Mafia – inevitable group of Latino friends my wife accumulates wherever we have lived & their spouses; Neighborhood Mafioso - wife's close friend and Panamanian mafia member, Favorite Panamanian - the wife (of course); First Friday – celebrations to mark the First Friday of the Week; Curbside Girls – close friends of my daughter acquired during her single days in Brooklyn