Do You Remember The Joyful Feeling...

...you felt as a child, when you returned to school, and smelled the hallways and the school kitchen, and saw your schoomates, after several days at home with the mumps, measles, or other childhood malady?  That feeling came to mind last week when I returned to work after three weeks off, and felt none of that joy.  I've worked for over 48 years with only two weeks of unemployment, and I guess that I am losing my enthusiasm.  Going back to work brought this poem to mind.  I heard it first from Cliff Arquette (as Charlie Weaver) and the author has never revealed himself.  It's timely for us old dudes.

My Get-Up-And-Go Has Got Up and Went

Anonymous
Old age is golden, or so I’ve heard said,
But sometimes I wonder, as I crawl into bed,
With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup,
My eyes on the table until I wake up.
As sleep dims my vision, I say to myself:
Is there anything else I should lay on the shelf?
But, though nations are warring, and Congress is vexed,
We’ll still stick around to see what happens next!

How do I know my youth is all spent?
My get-up-and-go has got up and went!
But, in spite of it all, I’m able to grin
And think of the places my getup has been!
When I was young, my slippers were red;
I could kick up my heels right over my head.
When I was older my slippers were blue,
But still I could dance the whole night through.
Now I am older, my slippers are black.
I huff to the store and puff my way back.
But never you laugh; I don’t mind at all:
I’d rather be huffing than not puff at all!


How do I know my youth is all spent?
My get-up-and-go has got up and went!
But, in spite of it all, I’m able to grin
And think of the places my getup has been!
I get up each morning and dust off my wits,
Open the paper, and read the Obits.
If I’m not there, I know I’m not dead,
So I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed!


How do I know my youth is all spent?
My get-up-and-go has got up and went!
But, in spite of it all, I’m able to grin
And think of the places my getup has been!
 
 Well, I'm still a wage slave and can't go back to bed, but the sentiment of this poem is right.  Every morning when I wake up, it's like Groundhog Day.  I just went straight from reading glasses to tri-focals, tinnitus has been my constant companion for twenty years, and I don't walk a 40 as fast as I used to.  I guess I need to get out and burn, cut, or shoot something.