Small Victories

             Sometimes we old people have to count our small victories:

 

I.

 

If we had bacon, we could have bacon and eggs, but we don’t have any eggs.

 

Sometimes that victory is in capturing the humor of loss in language. The sentence above appeals to me because by the time we get to the end of the sentence, the beginning of the sentence is forgotten. Ever have that happen? It’s a victory of recognition.

 

II.

 

When I taught filmmaking, I asked my students to name the “least memorable movie” they had ever seen.

 

This usually led to a confused pause, then a few smiles. I counted this as a small victory. Over what, I’m not sure.

 

III.

 

I’m not as good as I once was, but I’m as good once as I always was.

 

Not at all sure this is true. Perhaps Kim will tell me. I won’t let you know if I find out, either way. 

 

IV.

 

The older I get, the better I was.

 

I’ve said this before in a previous post, but repeating jokes is one of those things you do when you get old.

 

V.

 

            Age 2

 

“Do you want to go outside?”

“No.”

“Do you want to read a book?”

“No.”

“Do you want to watch television?”

“No.”

“Do you want to listen to music?”

“No.”

“Are you being negative?”

“No.”

 

Again, this is a small victory – over Jeff, my two-year old son – but I’ll take it. I did not spike Jeff’s pacifier in the end zone. As an old person, you probably have your own versions of this conversation. We do.

 

VI.

 

I was pleased, the other day, when I put Kim’s socks away in my drawer by mistake. I was pleased that I did not put them in the refrigerator. Small victory, indeed.

 

VII.

 

This morning, I struggled to think of a familiar word, the meaning of which was very clear. Now I’m struggling to think of the meaning and the event that made we want to come up with the word. Ah! The word was “mutation.” Yes!!

 

VIII.

 

Kim and I were working as volunteers at Paynes Prairie State Park, just outside of Gainesville. A guy came in to the Visitor’s Center and asked me if I could identify a snake.

 

“Sure,” I said, hoping it was one of the approximately three species with which I was familiar. “What color is it?”

 

“Green.”

 

“It’s a green snake.” As it turned out, my smart-ass answer was correct.