Yesterday caused me to pause and reflect.  When you get to be “senior,” everything that goes wrong is attributed to your seniorness.  Well, I did something pretty dumb yesterday and it got me thinking.  It’s too easy and unfair to blame everything that goes wrong on being “senior.”

This day had been a long one, but enjoyable.  I had had a good round of golf, which has been happening less frequently.  We turned the TV off at 11 o’clock and were starting the migration upstairs.  As I walked into the kitchen, four little blue lights belonging to the dishwasher were glowing at me.  We had forgotten to empty the dishwasher.

Carole came into the kitchen and started wiping off the water that gathers on the upside down glasses and cups.  Then she started emptying the dishwasher, placing things on the counter.  I would grab the dishes and glasses off of the counter and tuck them into their assigned places in the cabinets.  Everything has its place.

I started with the glasses and cups.  Sitting on the counter next to the clean glasses was Carole’s ice water glass which was over half full.  I grabbed it by its handle and turned it over to fit it into its spot.  All hell broke loose.  Water and ice hit the counter, the floor and me.  I suspect I was holding the glass kind of high when I turned it over.  The water went everywhere.  Some of our corner cabinets come all the way down to the counter.  I am told they are called garages.  Well, I parked water and ice all over the inside of the garage.  I’m glad she wasn’t drinking a Dr. Pepper.

Fifteen minutes later everything was back to normal.  While such situations require a grave apologetic mood, I couldn’t help but be amused at such a stupid stunt.  I really wanted to laugh, but, of course, you can’t when you are seeking forgiveness.

Later, I started thinking how easy it is to blame such screw ups on being “senior.”  “He’s an old fuddy-duddy.”  Well, I want you to know that I’ve been pulling stunts like this for years.  It is unfair to blame mishaps on seniorities.

In my early twenties, I went to work without a belt on.  I guess that’s no big deal if you work for IBM or the telephone company, but I was in the Army.  And with no belt, I was out of uniform.  God bless the sergeant major who took me aside and told me so I could remedy the problem.  The rest of the office was having a good time at my expense.

In law school, at an even earlier age, we lived about two miles south of the school.  I would drop Carole off downtown where she worked and then pick her up at the end of the day.  This particular day was in the dead of winter and the temperature was in the teens.  When I came out of class the wind was blowing 20 to 30 miles per hour from the north.  But I had a big parka with a fur hood.  I just pointed myself south and let the wind pound on my back and blow me home.  When it was time to pick up Carole, I grabbed my keys and started out to the car.  No car.  I had driven that day to school and the car was in the parking lot next to Tate Hall.  The wind had not died down, nor changed direction as I started my two mile trek into the icy blast.

So I think it is unfair to blame screw ups on being “senior.”  I had a real good point to close with, but it escapes me right now.  I will say that men of all ages, on occasion, forget to zip their fly.  So I put no special meaning in the fact that while playing golf with my buddies the other day, it took me 12 holes to realize that my fly was unzipped.  I am sure I would have recognized it sooner had it been colder or more windy.

Written by PJ Rice on www.ricequips.com