The world is crazier than most people know. But I know. I was a clinical social worker for forty years. I am a witness. I retired from social work to write about the sad, the mad, and the savage; with whom I have spent most of my life. I have decided to translate these stories into fiction, because, as a co-worker once said, "You couldn't make this sh*t up. No one would believe you."

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

A BOOMER LOVE STORY

I wonder what it would be like to fall in love when you’re old…er. Mind you, I’m married, so it’s not really an issue, but imagine…

Wide angle shot: me on a hilltop, dress blowing in the breeze (but not over my head). Closeup: my face, wrinkles filtered out. Cut to:

HIM. Wide angle shot of him rushing up the hill to meet me. Closeup of his face, writhing in pain as he clutches his heart….WAIT! CUT!  Let’s try this again….

The First Kiss. Wide angle shot, we turn to one another. Closeup of me, wrinkle free of course, smiling shyly. This is because I’m wondering if I have bad breath so I don’t want to open my mouth too wide.

Closeup of him, grinning, bright yellow teeth. CRAP! CUT!

Okay, we’ll try a picnic on a sunny day. Wide angle shot: him, spreading out the blanket. Move in to show me spreading out the picnic lunch, nice. At my age, I oughta know how to prepare food. He sits down. I sit down. Neither one of us can get up. CUT!!!

Oh hell, I think I’ll just stick to being married. Howa ya doin’ dear?

Belch! Fart!

Well, it may not be high romance, but it’s home, you know what I mean?

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