Shut My Mouth

This is me in college. Apparently, I'm channelling Wild Bill. I have not done it well. I have not learned to shut my mouth.

Aging is supposed to bring wisdom. I'm definitely wiser but I'm also balancing when to tackle the issue and when to let it go.

I'm still learning that lesson.

A Matter of Public Record

I am a huge fan of the Freedom of Information Act. I believe journalists and the public-at-large should have access to court documents, legislation or any information that impacts our country and world. I am one of the people who actually watches C-Span when there's a bill I'm concerned about.

On the flip side, I believe in privacy. It's a pretty tough dance when it becomes personal.

There are different rules for different people. Public figures are fair game. I think that keeps a lot of talented people out of politics, which I find scary. We've scared some of our brightest and brilliant people away from public office because who knows what the opponent might dig up.

Here's the flaw in the system:

If you got married, it's a matter of public record. If you lived with a bunch of people, it's not.
If you got divorced, it's a matter of public record. If you fathered a few illegitimate children, it's not.
If you got arrested in college or later, it's a matter of public record. If you shot heroine between your toes but told no one, it's not.
If your credit is lousy and you file for bankruptcy, it's a matter of public record. If you're cleaning it up, nobody cares.

There are people who live life and obey the rules. I try to be this person but I have broken many of society's rules. I don't know these people who have done it all perfectly but I hear that they are out there.

A Different Kind of Date

The husband and I planned to have a dinner date last night. It didn't happen. He was caught up at work and by the time he came home, we got into an endless (and pointless) discussion with the oldies. I'm being kind by using the word "discussion." At 10:00 P.M., I'm lying on the sofa and he asks, "So what's for dinner?" I pointed toward the kitchen and said, "Knock yourself out."

We steal our moments. We go for walks and we definitely meet up with friends on a regular basis. The hardest part about living with the oldies is the lack of privacy. They are completely kind about it but you can't start a discussion without someone walking into the room. They hide out from us; I know they are trying to stay out of the way and that makes me sad. But, I get a little antsy when I can't have a conversation with the husband. Lots of nights, we sit in the garage or spend hours on the patio. Sometimes, we go in my closet. How bizarre is that?

He needed some routine blood work done and we both needed a flu shot. We went this morning. We had car time together and a couple of quick discussions. It wasn't the date I had in mind but in some weird way, it was still fun.

Behind Closed Doors

Privacy is a good thing. I respect it and I hope other people respect mine. Yet, it's difficult for me. I've seen the oldies fall so I always have one ear tuned for disaster.

She buys an awful lot of bleach and carries it back to their end of the house. What is she bleaching? They burn candles. I'm constantly checking our smoke detectors. I don't want to invade their space but I get worried. I knock before entering.

Sometimes I close the door to my office; sometimes I close the door to my bedroom. But, for the most part, my doors are open.

We have a door between our back hallway and the garage. As all the workout girls will tell you, the knob is funky and it sticks. This morning, we couldn't get it to open. The husband saw the flash of panic and claustrophobia in my eyes. He brought me back to earth by saying, "You know, we can just go out another door."

Unless you're living in my home, it's none of my business what you do behind closed doors. As for the door knob that is making me crazy, my dad will fix it.

Caregiving

I hope there's a special spot in heaven for people who have been caregivers. I also hope you get to spend some time alone there.

I know people who have and/or still are caring for aging parents. I know people who care for siblings. Unfortunately, I know people who have become caregivers for their ill children. (They deserve the penthouse.)

As an only child, I had my own room and a lot of privacy. I still crave that.