True Story©… I Wanna Go Outside
My 44nd
birthday will be here in nine days…
My current physical weight is as low as it has been in like 15 years, my wind and stamina for physical activity are about as good as they have
been in about the last ten.
Be all of that as
it may, if I had ever been athletically inclined enough to have participated in
a professional sport of any type other than golf, they would have put my old ass
out to pasture no sooner than about five years ago.
… that would be if I wasn’t ignant and
didn’t didn’t frequently traverse the world as if proverbial shit don’t stink
and proverbial fire don’t burn, proverbially.
More on that in a minute.
Last summer, I
built a small home gym in my garage/mancave for quick workouts or short
intervals throughout my days between tasks or before/after work. This comes in addition to the extensive time
I spend out behind the lawn mower and the couple of miles I will take in around
the neighborhood whenever the inclination hits me.
Let’s just say it, I am kind of in shape here lately.
About three weeks
ago, while the weather was still refusing to behave like a late NC spring –
which is to say “fucking HOT,” I decided to rally up a few people to meet up
and play a game of kickball. By “people,”
I mean the people I invited were all over the age of 35 and some on into their
fifties. To be frank, I am not sure they
even taught children how to play kickball if they were born after 1985. Don’t quote me on that, I am just kind of
guessing based on their musical tastes and gadget usage.
[Phlip
note: “hey you damn kids, get off my lawn!]
Anyway…
I hopped upon Thine
Book of Faces midday Friday and invited a BUNCH of people to meet me at a park
that happens to be across the street from my mom’s house and be prepared to
have a grand ol’ time with music and a fun game of kickball. I explained that while the GAME was for the
grownups, I get that some of us have kids and grands, but the playground
attached would give the littles something to do.
I figured that I would show up, and even if no one else did that I could get in
a good walk/run through the three connected parks as a workout before heading
back home.
Dig this, though… 20 people showed up!
We carried the whole thing pickup style…
The oldest two people in attendance were team captains and everyone else
lined up to be picked for teams. I
instructed my daughter on how to keep score, then I “borrowed” four paper
plates from mom’s house and set up bases on the field and we went for it!
A good ol’-assed
time was had by all involved and we laughed and played and talked about back in
the days when we would often do this same exact thing with these same exact
people in this same exact park back in the 80s and 90s.
One hour got away from us.
Two hours slid by.
Three hours.
Four hours…
So somewhere
between hour 4 and 5 of an endless game of kickball, I decided I was gonna get
sporty and kick the ball clear out of the makeshift field and into the woods…
Pitcher rolls the ball, I take a three-step approach and plant my left foot as
if I am prepared to kick a Superbowl-winning field goal when…
**CRACK**
Not to let you in
on anything more than you need to or don’t already know, but as an 18 year-old,
I was able to haul my 5’8” self high enough to dunk a regulation hoop. Also, that was five presidents ago. Nowadays?
My knees sing a song of mercy just walking up and down the steps in my
house. That said, there is no way in
hell that I should be attempting any superhuman athletic feats at an age I am
blessed to still have my hairline, however gray it has become over the last
few years.
My left knee had decided for me that I should PROBABLY sit my old ass down
somewhere for a few weeks and perhaps see my primary care physician about an
MRI and a cortisone shot for this shit.
Did I listen to that hatin’-ass knee?
Fuck no! I told y’all eight
paragraphs ago, I am ignant and hard headed.
I finished the last inning of the game with a noticeable limp, and
refused to acknowledge it.
Did you know that
if you assemble enough old-heads in one place at one time, the conversation
WILL invariably turn into competing litanies of ailments and medication
listings?
After the game, we didn’t all just up and take off, we actually sat around a
while longer and talked. Of course, the
question of my knee came up. With that
topic in the circle, EVERYONE wanted to talk about their own ailments… Backaches, migraines, questionable knees, you
name it. It was like an odd mix of Gen-X
geriatrics.
But you know what? A good-ass time was
had by all, I’mma see if I can’t throw something like this together for my
birthday.
Comments