Driving Mr. Howie
There are three time in your life that you get to be a senior.
The first time is in high school. The good news you can see the end. Graduation is around the corner. You're basically on cruise control until they tell you to get the fuck out of the building.
The second time is in college. The bad news is you can see the end. Graduation is around the corner. You have to get one of those job thingies. You're down on your knees begging them to let you stay. They're telling you to get the fuck out of the building. Damn!
The third time is when you reach a golden age. That age keeps changing. Sometimes it's 55. Sometimes it's 62. Sometimes it's 65 or 70. It's fucking confusing.
Did you know that people try to give you stuff when you reach that age? Really! The Waldorf-Astoria Hotel in New York will give you a $5000 discount on their Presidential Suite. I'm going to call them as soon as I finish typing this.
I was speaking to my spiritual adviser, more commonly known as my therapist. Usually I know what I want to to talk about on these weekly sessions. Yesterday, I had nothing.
She said, "Let's start with a question...in four months you'll be 62. What's your plan?"
Are you kidding me? I need a plan? What kind of bullshit is this? We're suppose to be easing into our golden years and now I need a plan? WHAT THE FUCK!!
She continued, "You talk a lot about moving. Any ideas about where you want to go?"
What?? I still have four months. I need to know this right this minute? I think I know where I need to go now...away from you!
One more question....OMFG another question?
"How are you going to get around once you get to where you're going?'
I replied, well...at least in my head, " How the fuck do you think I'm going to get around? I'll get a car and drive like any other normal person."
She continued, " You haven't driven in almost two years. Even your friends think you can't drive anymore. How about that?"
So now I'm thinking...always a scary thing...what am I going to do...besides find new friends.
Here's my idea. I'm moving to Los Angeles. Swimming pools, movie stars. Warm weather, no snow or rain. Plus Amy Moore, my daughter. And since she never reads my blog, I can try out this idea here.
She has a car. I can get her a cap. I'll get in the back seat. Amy becomes Morgan Freeman. Works for me!
She's going to object to this plan. But the first thing any salesperson learns is to overcome objections. In other words, GUILT!
"Hey Amy, remember the time you needed a ride to the pool and nine of your friends jumped in my Honda Civic? Good Times!! How about if you drop me off at the Nicholson house? Jack will call you when I need to be picked up."
Back to reality...back to my therapist, "I'll be gone next week. I'm going to visit my brother in Boulder, Colorado. That gives you two weeks to come up with a plan." Yes mom...I'll get right on that!!
But hmmm....Boulder....I like Colorado. I know people there. They even read my blog. I wonder if they have a cap?