mercredi 24 février 2016

Wait a minute, when did I become ...

Wait a minute, when did I become ...

... the grey goateed guy the teenyboppers hold the store door for and call sir?????

I called most everyone sir or ma'am as appropriate when I was in retail - because that's just how it was done in the south; and because without their business I wouldn't have been eating; and, because people like to be acknowledged and respected.

But now I'm the grey goateed guy the teenyboppers hold the store door for and call sir.
Gonna take me a couple decades to wrap my mind around that one.
The whatever it is that makes me, me, has no concept of age, none, as far as I know I've always been 'this' and 'this' has no specific definition, it just is. Without a calendar and a birth certificate I'd have no clue how old I am. With me being me, that might even have held true in an earlier culture where the seasons were available to mark time.

Even with watching our parents grow wrinkled and grey, the whatever it is that makes me, me, has no concept of age.
Age aging, is a mystery, it often seems like an artificial construct, a twisting of reality, a fiction.


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