Monday, January 16, 2012

Slowing Down

I have these moments sometimes when my brain seems to be telling me something on the lines of Scotty's immortal lines in Star Trek: It's the engines. They just canna take it captain. In my case recognition that I can no longer ask of this old frame the kind of things that were once fairly routine. Case in point: at the end of the first couple of days of work this year I found the muscles on the insides of my thighs aching just from the effort of getting around - especially climbing steps. By this time I thought I had got over the initial shock, only to find the same thing today after a weekend away from the heavy action - and this despite remaining fairly active on Saturday and Sunday.

And, of course, things are not likely to get better.

Yet the odd thing is I can't honestly say I find myself terribly upset about this state of affairs. Almost the reverse. I'm coming to regard each day as a kind of raid into some kind of semi-forbidden territory, where surviving successfully is a massive unlikely plus.

Not dark yet but (sort of cheerfully) getting there. (According to Alex Ross's essay on Dylan in Listen To This you could actually pick up a bumper sticker with the Bobster's immortal line on it at Dylan gigs in the late 1990's. Wish I'd been there to do so.)


Trebuchet said...

You need more dilithium crystals, Cap'n. :)

And perhaps, less stress all round!

Brian Connor said...

A couple of spoonfuls of the old dilithium and I'm sure my tricorder readings would say tickety-boo.