Everything Old Is New Again

My Dutch Uncle Hennie is very sick. In fact, he's dying. He started dying three years ago of prostate cancer but now the cancer has spread. He does not have very long. He is 79, and the last of my father's ten brothers and sisters. When he passes, that entire generation will be gone.

This will make my brother the oldest living Blokker, a distinction he probably could do without. I understand. I just turned 60 yesterday and have been at the same job for 31 plus years (something I would have laughed at you for suggesting would happen, back in the day) I rank Number 5 among all the letter carriers in all of Salinas, California. Being Number One is not something to which I aspire. It is more comfortable being in the top ten. Even firmly. In my family, as the dust settles and my brother and my generation slip into the top bracket, I will still be way down on the seniority list.

That's fine with me.

Hey!

It gets very lonely sometimes, writing blogs to myself in the vain hope -- and vanity is operating, trust me -- that someone is "listening." Like Roger Waters once asked so famously, "Is anybody out there?"

I got a good piece of advice the other day. Be patient. Keep on plugging away and be patient! Some days that's easier said than done.

Having said that, I realize that it's only two hours until the next episode of Lost. How pathetic am I that I realize this? A nice shot of Bushmill's and an hour with Jack and Kaste and Sawyer and Hugo and Loske who is not Locke and of course Sayid, the most symaptheic torturer the world has ever seen!

Ah, Redemption! Ah, smoke monsters!!

Really Good TV

ah, for fun.

I am lost in "Lost," delighted by the mysteries and anxiously awaiting their resolution. There are only fourteen hours left and "Lost" will be lost forever -- lost but not forgotten. To me it is opne of the best dramas ever put on commercial television, perhaps after "Doctor Who" and rivalling the best shows done on cable TV like "Six Feet Under" and "Dead Like Me." If you've never given it a chance, rent "Lost" from the beginning.

Of course, I like things that are just a bit off center.

As to my all time favorite TV show, although my opiniuon can be changed, I am going to say today that it is "Dexter" on Showtime. This one is a truly bizarre treat, focusing on a serial killer who controls his tendencies by killing serial killers. I have not yet seen Season 4 (I don;t subscribe to Showtime so I have to wait for the DVDs, but I like watching TV on DVD because it lets you appreciate the entire story arc at once), but for me Season Two is one of the most remarkable accomplishments ever broadcast. Erotic and edgy, with a plethora of complex characters and incredible outcomes, it was tight and taut and oh so sexy. Yet disturbing as all hell.

Rent Season One for back story and a truly great season before you rent Season Two, but wait until you meet Lila!

Fluff

Call me a fluff brain, but the one magazine I read religiously cover to cover and await anxiously every Friday, is "Entertainment Weekly." It is a passion, a guilty pleasure like salt and vinegar potato chips and pizza, which I consider brain food.

I actually read the articles. I love to find out what may or may not be happening on "Lost" or why the extra features on the "Up" DVD are worth it or when Christopher Moore's next book is about, or what Dexter is up to and when Season Four will come out on DVD, and who's getting sued or arrested or who died. Just the stuff for intellectual stimulation.

Of course, that other bastion of wisdom, "Star Trek" (the original series) said it best in the episode, "Shore Leave," written by Theodore Sturgeon, via the calming verbiage of the Caretaker: "The more sophisticated the mind, the greater the need for the simplicity of play." Sudoku, anyone?

A Day Of Compliments?

I am fifteen days away from 60. My hair is grey. Each morning I wake up wondering what part of me is going to hurt today. But at least I wake up. I think I am entering my second mid-life crisis, though my first, which started when I was 43 (I am non-traditional in a lot of ways), has not yet ended. I seek balance in my life, as do we all, on a day to day, sometimes minute by minute basis.

Today I was hit by extremes. At Blockbuster, a young lady needed my ID to open a membership account. My driver's license is located in a slip cover on my wallet. The last digit of my birth year is obscured. She asked, "1950 - what?"

I answered, "Just 1950, though I am loathe to admit it."

She smiled. "You don't look it," she said. Of course, I beamed.

Fifteen minutes later I was at the Grocery Outlet, checking out. Another, even younger woman volunteered -- without an ID check -- a senior discount. So much for balance.

I took the discount.