When I Grow Old: A Walk in the Sunshine

I grow old… I grow old…

I shall wear the bottom of my trousers rolled

~ T.S. Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

As I grow old and wear the bottom of my trousers rolled, Ilament the loss of the simple things of days long usurped by time.

Ah, the good old days. Simpler times. Whenthere was time to stop and catch your breath. I find myself using these expressions more often thesedays. It is an inevitable development when you have more years behind you thanahead of you – the polite way of saying I am getting old.

I have no doubt that every generationfalls back on these expressions in their senior years. But I believe that my generation– Baby Boomers – has a greater claim to them than ever before. We have seen atidal wave of change over the course of our lives. Life has become so dizzyinglyfast-paced and so much more complex.

Oh, how I miss the simple things of mysmall town youth. Things that required no digital technology and could be doneon a whim.

Getting on my bicycle, with its high handlebars and banana seat, to go for a ride for an hour with no destination in mindand my own company to keep.

Strolling down to the vacant corner lot(long since occupied by an apartment building) to pick wild strawberries andcatch grasshoppers.

Playing football in two neighbouringyards because no one felt the need to build fences around their property orworry about trespassers.

Going fishing at the creek with no GPSfish finder, no high tech – high speed – ultralight – gear ratio reel and noscented baits – just a dew worm on a hook and two lead shot sinkers.

Rotating the TV antennae to the rightposition to bring in the station you wanted to watch. Is that better? Whatabout this?

Playing catch with myself throwing arubber ball against the house and trying to get the perfect rebound from thespot where the foundation meets the ground.

Gathering at the neighbour’s yard in latesummer to climb the big tree, pick pears, put them in a six quart, woodenbasket and lower it to the ground by a rope tied to a branch.

Admittedly, part of this nostalgia islinked to the carefree days of youth when I had minimal responsibilities. But itis equally grounded in the simplicity of those times before the Internet,digital technology and the relentless sprint of progress.

As I grow old, I long for the days whensimplicity reigned supreme. When a walk in the sunshine with nowhere to get towas the best part of the day and a source of fulfillment all by itself. Simplertimes. The good old days. I miss them so.

~ Now Available Online from Amazon,Chapters Indigo or Barnes & Noble: Hunting Muskie, Rites of Passage –Stories by Michael Robert Dyet

~ Michael Robert Dyet is also the author of Untilthe Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel (now out of print) which wasa double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’swebsite at www.mdyetmetaphor.com .

~ Subscribe to Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka That Make Me GoHmmm at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Ifyou’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularlyto my page for postings once a week.