Number Your Days
Today in the grocery checkout line I told the young man at the cash register he had an “Osmond-family” smile.
“Who’s that?”
“Pretty people who used to be on TV.”
Losing cultural cues like purple socks is a sure sign of aging — for me and Donnie and Marie. I wish them well.
But. Writing this date: February 28 feels good. In my part of the world that means winter is pretty much done. An outlier storm might show up, but it will be a freak of nature at this point, so all of you early bloomers out there, and I mean dogwoods and redbuds, are safe. Mostly.
How did people measure things before numbers? Did they care about quantifying? Was it: “that stack of wood looks tall enough to get us through the cold times?” “That group of warriors looks bigger than ours… we’d better run…?”
It is hard to imagine what life was like before money and calendars. But both developed in various forms all over the world. Humans became organized (some more than others) and those who harnessed the power of time and money grew rich. Which reminds me … tax time is coming.
This month I celebrated the first anniversary of the release from the twenty-one year corporate gig. And yesterday I attended another “celebration of life” for someone not much older than me, who died in their sleep…
