It is well for the world that in most of us, by the age of thirty, the character has been set like plaster, and will never soften again.
William James said that. A native of Chocorua, New Hampshire, James was a pioneering psychologist and philosopher at the turn of the 20th, who disregarded his training as a medical doctor to charge hourly and mind-fuck his patients.
Why waste my valuable time - a measure of time relative to Zimbabwean-like inflation - to mention his origins? Well for one, he's from a town named Chocorua, a moniker adopted to pay homage to Count Chocula. Secondly, and most noteworthy of all is that the good doctor shun a more practical form of medicine, one which I would most certainly fancy the assistance of in my current debilitated state.
In the spirit of the holidays and the seemingly endless adaptation of traditional Christmas songs, the author would like to alter the above quote to speak volumes of his currently fragile state.
Substitute character for back.
It is well for the world that in most of us, by the age of thirty, the back has been set like plaster, and will never soften again.
This morning I awoke with a back so tight, it's rigidity left me paralysed much like Harrison Ford was in that boring sci-fi trilogy that nerds beat-off to, but sits well below my allowed standard of 'no attractive women, yet still redeemable' entertainment. No I don't think Princess Leia is hot, Natalie Portman however, is a completely different story.
What I would do to that woman with my light-saber...
Anyways, my back is killing me. Perhaps it's a combination of several variables such as age, granite-like mattress density or the impending winter chill, regardless, it took me at least 15 minutes to erect myself completely vertical. The last time it took that long was, well never, and yes I am still talking about my back.
For the better part of the day, I thought of the finite nature of time and life, and how in the last year I've aged physically more so than any year I can recall since high school. These notions had me down for a moment, but like a phoenix rising from the ashes of shit, I too rose from the fiery chasm which once crippled me in fear.
As a mechanism to drown such negativity, I reverted to my youth and read a little Mark Twain. Funny how a few words can really change your day for the better, which for all intensive purposes, is something I hope this site never does for you. It is called bad news isn't it?
Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter.
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