
One of my semi-schizophrenic personalities has always enjoyed viewing my life as an ongoing situational comedy. Sometimes an office nerd, sometimes a “father knows best”, sometimes a secret Van Gogh. Currently, I play the star role as a bumbling senior gradually losing his edge .
Surely it’s helpful to laugh at the minor problems that come with age, rather than raging against the inevitable. Not finding the right word is common with anyone, but frequent as I near eighty. I walk in a room and wonder why I am there. I miss the usual moves in the kitchen. I stumble when I stop paying attention. And I often sit, doing little, not even wanting to do more. All that can only make me smile. Another cute episode .
Fortunately, I’ve been spared real tragedy so far. That will require a different viewpoint, I suppose. Although media long ago learned to twist horror into entertainment . Perhaps my secret selves will be able to do the same .
In the meantime, the laugh track adds spice and softens fear. I regard it as part of the glorious ability to enjoy a constantly changing existence . So I am more forgetful, clumsier, or less ambitious. Hopefully not too dull. Each day, hopefully, to be continued. Not at all ready for the grand finale yet .
Now, exactly where was I? And what was I trying to say?
No matter, chuckle and move along .









