So, Halloween. I used to like it. I don’t know what happened other than a few decades of accumulated grumpiness.
Random people ringing my doorbell at night freaks me out. Hoards of them. Adults, children. And costumes, hiding their devious little faces! I just want to put a big bucket outside with a sign that says, candy. Here. Now go away. Or maybe leave the candy scattered throughout the yard like an Easter egg hunt. That could work. Instead, we turn off the lights and hope for the best.
I also worry about the cat. They are sneaky little guys, and I could see me opening the door and Riley slipping outside for a smoke. We could lock him up somewhere upstairs, but that doesn’t seem right. It’s his house, too.
Maybe I could watch Young Frankenstein in honor of Teri Garr, who passed away this week. What knockers! That is one of my all-time favorite movies ever. Speaking of Mel Brooks, we watched Spaceballs the other night. Very funny, and I vowed to use the term ludicrous speed at least weekly.
We watched the original Dracula last week. It’s pretty good, but we didn’t make it all the way through. We aim for shlocky movies on pizza night, and the minimum requirement is that it lasts through the pizza.
I never enjoyed horror in fiction or in life, but I’ve come to appreciate what’s sometimes called comedy horror. We lean toward animals gone rogue. The best ones don’t take themselves too seriously and are only marginally gross. While it’s hard to top Zombeavers, I also like Llamageddon, Lavalantula and all the Sharnados.
My knee et all is manageable, so I’m back to golf, etc. I will still see my primary care physician in late November, but in the meantime, I’m trying to think of pain in a new way. It’s a sensory experience emanating from my brain. That’s it. Don’t attach emotions to it – don’t cry why me, don’t worry about what I can or cannot do because of it. It’s just a thing.
To celebrate the arrival of cooler weather, I bought a few new items from Athleta to get me in the spirit of things. I particularly love the Venice High Rise Cargo Jogger. Super- comfy and great pockets! Athleta is not cheap, but for me, the quality and fit is excellent.
Actually, I would like to be an Athleta brand ambassador. I don’t think they have such a thing, particularly if you are old and gray and can’t do yoga, but it’s practically all I wear now that I’m retired. Maybe I could get a discount!
“Now listen to me very carefully. Do not put the candlestick back”
What knockers.
I would be delighted if all the makers of comfy joggers with pockets would aim some gray haired brand ambassadors at me. While showing respect. The world bitches on and on about boomers having all the money (as if). Why don`t they come and try to get some of mine in exchange for something I want?
Something something honey vs. vinegar…