Spring continues it's heroic fight against winter - the day before yesterday it had the upper hand; yesterday, winter fought back; today, spring has winter on it's back and looks to be gaining points - I know who my money's on.
No sooner has my back problem almost sorted itself out, than I have another cold - or a slight ailment with cold-like symptoms. I lay awake last night thinking that the difference between a 'slight ailment' and and a terminal disease can be simply when the 'cold-like symptoms' persist for weeks rather than days. I'll let you know. Thinking back, it seems that I haven't been without some sort of minor physical problem for about 3 years now - one thing seems to lead to another. Maybe this is what they mean when they say, "old age never comes alone"?
This spring - if it ever arrives - I will be 60 years old, and I am constantly being told that 60 is the new 40. Yeah, right. I have noticed a lot of positive spin being put on aging and associated conditions by the same people who were - only about 40 years ago - advising us never to trust anyone over the age of 30. They have now all grown up and are running newspapers, magazines and TV stations, so are now in a position to manipulate the public perception of aging, and suggest that it is extremely fashionable to be older - whatever that is. I really don't think the youth of today are buying into the idea, and are quite happy with the way their teeth are already, thank you very much. In any event, fashions come and go so quickly that I'm sure that when they reach our sort of age, it will be - once again - fashionable to be old - or at least that's what they will be telling the next generation who are, as yet, unborn.
So, back here in our compact but adorable city apartment, we are eking out the last days of winter by continuing to watch several hours of the aforementioned 'Deadwood' series a night on the iMac. The (also aforementioned) foul language is becoming so extreme, that it is - unbelievably - taking on a humorous life all of it's own. Last night, the episode we watched contained a scene where the town's archetypal Chinaman - complete with pig-tail - demands the death of a robber who has stolen his entire opium supply which was on it's way by the perilous road that leads to the camp. He communicates his displeasure to the powerful saloon-keeper by making crude drawings of stick men on a piece of paper, until the penny drops with the saloon-keeper, and he understands what the Chinaman is demanding, and makes an arrangement to kill the robber and deliver him to the Chinaman so he can feed him to the pigs. They both draw one finger across their throats in the universal sign for murder, and then the Chinaman comes out with the only word of English that he seems to speak, as he refers to the robber: "Cocksucker!" H.I. and me almost fell off our chairs with laughter.
The series is full of useful and amusing phrases and sayings as well, some of which I intend to slip into my everyday conversation when dealing with customers. How about, "Flatter than hammered shit"?