Planting Stella-Doros

I've reached the down side of the life curve. Actually, It isn't such a bad place. Sure I miss screwing my wife in the wee hours, being in the center of things and trying to make the best out of all the opportunities. It was fast paced and led in unexpected directions to all manner of experiences. There were choices which for the most part turned out well. This is not because I was always inclined to do the right thing but more because I had some luck along the way. For whatever reasons, I was able to avoid some bad decisions I came close to making. When I did stray, I was spared the worst of what might have happened.

I know, I know... I'm talking in generalities and my readers would like some specific examples to give life to all the philosophical mumbo jumbo I'm spouting in this inane discussion that seems to be going nowhere. Actually it is going nowhere since it has already arrived at pretty much the station at the end of my journey. What remains is to suffer the pains and arrows of old age and deteriorating health. I'm not at that point yet but I see the specter walking towards me.

Last night I had vivid dreams, first that I was working in the Central Intelligence Agency. It was not a Walter Mitty dream where I was some big wheel calling the shots. No, I was not someone who had reached the pinnacle but rather someone stuck in a rut of mediocrity living in a glass house. My job was to be a little cog in the coverup of a big secret. The secret is the alien presence on this planet. Here I am in life, sometimes throwing an indignant stone, at those behind the most pervasive hoodwink in history, when in my dream I'm a part of it. On top of that... the secret is so disconcerting and fearful that when I woke up I thanked my lucky charms to have been spared such an actual role in life. Next came a dream that I was someone on the fringe of organized crime, and gradually drawn deeper until way over my head. This was another nightmare right up there with the first one. When I awoke I thanked my lucky stars for being in a rural backwater of central Wisconsin insulated from the surging undercurrents beneath the placid waters.

Old age is a chance to pause and take a deep breath. For over three quarters of my life I ran around like a chicken with its head cut off reaching for rings on the great merry-go-round. Well, I have a few rings and since I don't have extravagant tastes will probably not outlive my checkbook... that is, unless something unexpected happens. If it does I'm up shit's creek. I would have it truly made if it weren't for those dreams.... those nocturnal reminders that just around the corner could be a wake up call such as that experienced by our hunter gatherer ancestors... like when a comet or meteorite slammed into the earth and submerged the human consciousness into a flood of darkness and bitter cold. Something just won't let me kick back and take the comforts of life for granted. So I keep my fingers crossed, mow my yard and plant Stella Doros next to the road.