| 12/08/09 10:35 PM |
#73
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Jim Olsen
(Without apology to Ms. Adams' cigars or the Noxema commercial, I need to provide my dear friend Peggy with s-o-m-e-t-h-i-n-g else to rattle around in her head)
Unfortunately for those of you who have been the unwilling recipients of my oft-acerbic cynicism on this website, I have taken great literary license over the past several months. While it has all been in great fun, I could never hope to compete with Mssrs. Adamson, Brown, Stevens, etc. Nevertheless, as my birthday takes me one timid step closer to qualifying for ‘Senior Discounts’ at the local Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives, I feel compelled to share this expose’ on our collective infirmities. (Incidentally, in my advanced years, I have absolutely no recollection of its source.)
(Sung to that old favorite from ‘The Sound of Music’)
Botox and nose drops and needles for knitting,
Walkers and handrails and new dental fittings,
Bundles of magazines tied up in string,
These are a few of my favorite things.
Cadillacs and cataracts, hearing aids and glasses,
Polident and Fixodent and false teeth in glasses,
Pacemakers, golf carts and porches with swings,
These are a few of my favorite things.
When the pipes leak, when the bones creak,
When the knees go bad,
I simply remember my favorite things,
And then I don’t feel so bad.
Hot tea and crumpets and corn pads for bunions,
No spicy hot food or food cooked with onions,
Bathrobes and heating pads and hot meals they bring,
These are a few of my favorite things.
Back pain, confused brains and no need for sinnin’,
Thin bones and fractures and hair that is thinnin’,
And we won’t mention our short shrunken frames,
When we remember our favorite things.
When the joints ache, When the hips break,
When the eyes grow dim,
Then I remember the great life I’ve had,
And then I don’t feel . . . so bad.
ANYONE who dares venture through the Boise area: please honor me with a visit. My very best to all!
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