Losing Battle

I’ll have to admit I’m beginning to think in terms of my own mortality. Turning the big four-O this May is bad enough but to have a week when two classmates fall prey to the Grim Reaper and you’re beaten up by an eight year old, is too much. One classmate lost a long battle against cancer and the other lost a battle with drug addiction. One a bit more noble a death than the other, but both leave you just as dead. Neither where actually friends but we did run in the same circles or knew the same people at different times. When we passed there was always that familiar nod with at least a name. To be honest not being close friends doesn’t really matter- I’m not one that likes a whole lot of change and there is something very comforting seeing people you know while driving through town or stopping into the corner store. Even when I don’t actually like someone I like to know they are around. It’s better to know an ass, than to have one around and not know it. Know your enemy and keep them close, I guess is something like how the saying goes. As for the eight year old beating me up? Yeah, Calvin did some kind of funky Kung Fu move and spun around and caught my thigh with an elbow strike last night. My left thigh muscle immediately went into a spasm and ended in a full contraction. I hobbled to the couch and eventually hopped up the spiral staircase to bed. This morning I was able to ride my bike but the muscle is still very sore when I stretch it out- like while I’m kneeling or putting on socks. Raising two sons…. I’m a dead man!