I picked up after the first ring when my editor Edgar Reewright phoned me last week, because I figured he was anxious to discuss the essay for Yeah, Another Blogger that I’d emailed him the day before.
“Hello, Edgar,” I said. “How goes it? What do you think of the article? Will it need much editing?”
“Neil, have any of your pieces ever not needed loads of editing?Β I mean, it’s all I can do to make your writings even somewhat presentable. I haven’t looked at your latest opus yet, though. I’ll get to it fairly soon. But I didn’t call to talk business.”
“Okay. What’s up?”
“I haven’t been in the strongest frame of mind lately,” Edgar said, sighing loudly, “so I’m hoping that maybe you can help me put things in perspective. I’ve been thinking about mortality a lot, you see, and it’s getting me down. I became a senior citizen ages ago, but until recently I didn’t consider myself an old man. All of that changed when I celebrated my 86th birthday with my wife Loretta last month. Towards the end of the meal, Loretta went into the kitchen and came out a few minutes later with a big birthday cake. There were 87 candles, one of them for good luck, burning brightly on it. The number of candles absolutely stunned me. They took up so much space, you barely could see the top of the cake. I’m old as shit, Neil, and I don’t like it.”
“Yes, Edgar, you are old as shit. But, overall, you’re fine and dandy nonetheless. Oh, except for the medicinal help your mighty sword requires in order to perform halfway decently with Loretta, of course. And the adult diapers you wouldn’t dare leave the house without wearing. And your incurable bad breath that rivals the odors at a garbage dump. Have I forgotten anything?”
“No, you haven’t. And how I wish you weren’t privy to such information. Even though we’ve never met in person, it’s entirely my fault that you know about these things, since I have trouble keeping my trap shut whenever we speak on the phone.”
“Very true. However, your tendency to divulge sensitive and embarrassing matters does make you a bit loveable. You’d be intolerable, otherwise. Anyway, I’m now going to try and cheer you up.”
“Thank you, Neil. I appreciate it.”
“Let’s start with some humor. Edgar, did you hear about Thomas I. Toldyaso, the aged astrophysicist who kicked the bucket last week?”
“No. What about him?”
“Everyone expected him to pass away with barely a whimper,” I said. “Instead, he went out with a big bang!”
“Not bad, Neil, not bad. That joke makes me wonder about my exit from this mortal coil. Will a horrible disease do me in? Will anyone actually care that I’m gone? I tell you, I feel the end isn’t too far off. The Grim Reaper has me in his sights. What shall I do? Oh, what shall I do?”
“Relax, Edgar! You’re strong as a bull. Even if The Grim Reaper taps you on the shoulder any time soon, I have no doubt you’ll grab him by the cowl and throw him back whence he came.”
“Whence? Are you kidding me, Neil? Only you would ever use the word whence. I better never see it in one of your blog stories. They’re awkward and lifeless enough as it is.”
Edgar paused for a moment, possibly deep in thought. Then he continued. “So, you think I’m strong as a bull, do you?”
“Absolutely, Edgar. I’m certain you have 10 more solid years in you. And 15 is more like it, most likely. Why, your energy and focus leave me in the dust, even though I’m a decade younger than you. Don’t be down in the dumps, Edgar. Just keep on keepin’ on!”
Once again Edgar took a moment to consider what I’d said. When he spoke, he was back in the saddle.
“Neil, all of a sudden I am feeling so much better. I wasn’t at all sure that you’d be of any help whatsoever when I decided to call you a little while ago. But I made the right choice. Thank you so much! The skies have brightened. I see a lengthy, excellent future in front of me. I now will get back to work, tackling the undoubtedly sorry-ass article you sent to me yesterday. Oh well, such is the life of an editor. Have a good day!”
“Goodbye, Edgar. It’s been a pleasure. Sort of.”
βInstead, he went out with a big bang!β groan… I love bad jokes! This one’s almost too good to qualify.
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It might be the first joke I ever made up.
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π I loved the punches. Unknowingly, you see taking Edgar down
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Hi there, and thanks. Who is this, by the way? You’re listed as Anonymous.
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Oh Neil, I laughed out loud! Always appreciated.
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Cheered me up too. Thank you
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Glad you enjoyed the story, Basia.
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Laughter is good medicine.
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another entertaining article, Neil: full of warmth and humor π
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Appreciated. Thanks.
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I needed to read this. I’ve been under the weather lately which does nothing to enhance anyone’s energy levels and attitudes.
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Get well soon!
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Thanks. Extra naps are on the agenda.
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Nice piece with humour and dialogues. Enjoyed it.
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Thanks. I don’t know who this is, by the way. You’re listed as Anonymous.
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I always brighten up a notch when I see a blog from you, Neil! This dying (lark?) is perplexing..Now a VERY surprised nonagenarian, I didn’t – for a second – think I’d need a new passport beyond 80 years (extended at 70 for ten years), and yet, here, husband (an amazing, sharp as a razor man at 96 still shops, cooks and cracks passable… jokes) is pondering the dilemma of again renewing our passports for another ten years. Joke, yes! It aint going to happen! Our travelling days (much appreciated and enjoyed) are fond memories, but I still fancy hanging around for a few more years, but either of us could ‘fall off our perches’ tomorrow (oops, no I have a pedicure…) or next week (we have friends arriving for a holiday not a funeral…) See..it’s just not convenient to suddenly die, but the Grim Reaper sometimes has a twisted sense of humour!. So I’d better check that we both have on clean underwear…tee hee. Cheers.
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Joy, you and your husband are role models!
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Thank you, kind sir! Cheers.
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Yes, we (I!) can get down over such things. I am generally a “down” person and in the sadnesses of life can be inclined to plummet further – no, not off the local bridge! I haven’t done that in a while now. But, as your essay of today illustrates perfectly, laughter is indeed the best medicine. Thank you, Neil.
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Hey there, Paddy. I’m glad I gave you a couple of laughs.
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Thank you, Neil, for brightening my day. Old age is stalking me too, with a malevolent twinkle is his eye. Your posts reminds me that I should simply kick him hard in the goolies and invite him to get lost.
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Kick him as hard as you can. He deserves it!
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Thank you so much, Neil, for your gift of making your readers happy when overcome with joy after reading your comic masterpieces! I hope you will live many more years, and write for our amusement!
Joanna
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Many thanks, Joanna. I appreciate it.
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You are more than welcome, Neil!
Joanna
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Youβve got your work cut out for you. LOL β you need to send him articles more frequently, keep him from thinking OLD AGE. We are ALL feeling it. A nice reminder, keep moving, keep thinking, keep creatingβ¦ Itβs interesting. I think of my grandparents. Did they have these old feelings? They certainly never let on, they seemed to enjoy life. Maybe it was because when grandkids visit, they felt young again and we filled them with love, right. Have a great day!
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Hi there. Edgar will be alright. He’s thinking positively once again.
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π
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So funny.
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Gracias.
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ππ
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Bad jokes always cheer a person up. π
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Hi Laurie. Yeah, they can put a smile on your face.
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Personally, I don’t think “whence” gets enough airplay in the world. Glad to see it here!
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It’s a pretty cool word.
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I get it. I’m no longer ageless either.
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We can’t stop the hands of time. That’s for sure.
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Nicely done (golf clap).
From my perspective, age is just a number.
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Yeah, but in the end it’s a finite number.
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If Toldyaso tells you so, better listen up! Age has not diminished your wit.
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The world will miss Toldyaso. But at least he exited with verve.
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Advide to Edgar: He’s young. Start worrying when you’re old as dirt!
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Edgar reads the comments, I think. He’ll appreciate what you said.
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Neil, nothing beats humor to send the Grim Reaper running π Edgar Reewright was smart in calling you π
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I felt I had no choice but to help him.
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You excelled as always, Neil π
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You were so kind to Edgar! He doesnβt deserve it when he is so rude about your writing.
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You’re right!
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Your therapy skills are beyond reproach, Neil! – Marty
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Maybe I’ll pursue a degree in psychotherapy. Yeah, right!
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And now I know who I’m going to call when I turn 80…….
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My line is open.
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Thanks for the smiles Neil. Personally I think aging is over-rated. Last week I passed-out in the check-out aisle of the grocery store… Embarrassing! It is the first time in my life I’ve ever passed-out. Now a myriad of medical tests. GRRRRR.
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Hi Lynne. I hope the tests show that nothing serious is going on.
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Thank you for the afternoon chuckle… especially with a topic that has been heavily on my mind! π
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Hi. It’s hard not to think about mortality. But, it’s best not to think about it too much. Take care. Have an excellent rest of the week.
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Art from the bad jokes, I enjoyed this post…seriously, I didn’t mind the jokes in as they fitted into the conversation. Thanks for the laugh!
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I’m glad you liked the story. Thanks for adding your thoughts about it.
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That must’ve been a big-ass cake π
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I was thinking the same thing.
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Great piece, Neil. Thanks. P. S. Is Edgar fictional? Just wondering.
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Hi. Yeah, Edgar popped into my head a few years ago. I guess I’ve included him in ten or so pieces since then.
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I’m glad you were able to cheer Edgar up, Neil. Getting old is hard work and we need cheerleaders every now and then. As my 93 yo dad says, “It’s better than the alternative.” Thanks for the laughs and the groaners. π
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Your dad is right!
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My goodness. A word like ‘whence’. You’re really getting classy. Chuckle, Muriel
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Hi Muriel. While writing the story, I was amazed that “whence” popped into my head. No way was I going to leave that word out of the story.
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“grab him by the cowl” Ha ha! Is there anything more sinister and death-like than a cowl?? That made me laugh!
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For sure, we don’t want to mess with anyone wearing a cowl.
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your ‘A Sunflower Story’ is one of my favourites of yours, Neil; I’m rereading it now π
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Loved this little exchange between the old and older. Get the feeling you and I are similar ages.
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We both probably can hardly believe that we are as old as we are.
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Iβm still smiling as I write this! Thanks for the chuckle π€
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Glad you enjoyed it. I donβt know who this is, by the way. Youβre listed as Anonymous.
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I’m glad ‘whence’ didn’t make you winch. Can ‘wither’ be far behind? Your whimper/bang joke was great; it brought to mind a rather different use of the pairing. According to T.S. Eliot, the world itself ends “not with a bang, but a whimper.”
If Edgar calls again with concerns about his age, you always could recommend some time spent listening to this as an antidote.
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Donβt Fear The Reaper is exactly the song Edgar needs to hear. Thanks!
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I hope Edgar is a real person, because he speaks for so many of us. Not me, of course. I look forward to aging, to losing my ability to travel, to watch my body shrivel and my mind shrink and …. HA. I don’t think anyone looks forward to aging even though if they don’t age, they die. Whence, we should all be happy that we’re aging and just reach for a happy place where we accept that we’re not once what we were in our prime, but then again, we’re much happier and full of wisdom. Right? A good friend recommended a book called The Grace of Aging (getting serious now, sorry ’bout that) and it’s wonderful and right up front. The author suggests that we stop the denial of aging and death and find the glory in getting closer to the glory of heaven. Well, she didn’t put it that way exactly….
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Hi, and thanks for your input. We definitely lose some degree of various abilities when we get old. But that doesn’t for a minute mean that it’s time for us to be put out to pasture. We retain other abilities fully, and maybe even increase our competence in some activities.
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Here, Here!
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Yes, βBig Bangβ is the type of joke my father would make, so to me itβs a βdad joke.β
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Hey there, Annie. Without a doubt, that joke is a groaner.
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I think itβs witty!
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You guys are an inspiration to a kid of 61 with a crazy dream. Well, you are, anyway. I’m not so sure about Edgar.
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Iβm not so sure about Edgar, either.
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Thanks for the humorous dialogue that awoke my senses as did my second cup of coffee. Keep writing, Neil.
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βοΈβοΈ
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Nice
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Always enjoy hearing from old Reewright…..though I didn’t realize he was that old! Also enjoyed your sense of humour! And the use of the word ‘cowl’ was the piece de resistance!
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Hi. Edgar’s advanced age surprises me too. And I’m sure he will make it to at least 100!
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That 6th paragraph paints a pretty picture. Im adhering to Satchel Page and his philosophy.
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Here’s an interesting article about him. He pitched in a game when he was 59 years old!
https://baseballhall.org/discover/inside-pitch/satchel-paige-pitches-at-age-59
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You made my day with that article. Thanks. A few people get my attention because of the way they carried themselves , Satch was one of them. People could learn a thing or two by his example.
“Age is a question of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it don’t matter”
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Whence is a wonderful word that can be said by anyone, forsooth. I feel a sudden need to use it more often.
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Believe it or not, there’s a song that has the word “forsooth” in it. Here’s Sinatra singing it:
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“Sad am I…” Oh my! Thanks for the link but not what I expected.
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Thanks for the laugh, Neil. Are you taking new clients at this time? π
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Not at the moment. But I’ll let you know if my schedule changes.
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I suppose Old as Shit isn’t as bad as Old as Dirt. Compositing time from one to the other, you know. I’m not worried, I doubt I’ll last as long as your editor.
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Edgar is like the Energizer bunny. He just keeps on going.
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The 87 candles on Edgar’s b-day cake–how they completely obscured the top of the cake–brought back what is one of my very earliest memories: President Eisenhower’s 68th birthday on our grainy 1958 black-and-white TV. Some staffer brought him a cake, lit with 68 candles, and the extremely low-definition of the times made it appear to be a giant fireball.
Also, whence is a PERFECTLY good word. A great word even. I have it on good authority that The Bard agrees!
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Eisenhower: A Republican who was decent, moral, solid. And then, some decades later, most members of his party turned to crap.
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Feeling like Edgar when I started reading, I felt much better after reading your post. I’m well on the wrong side of 80 and inclined to use words that date me as well! I was a professional writer until a few years ago when AMD put a stop to that but I still fall into the trap of ‘whilst’, ‘whence’ and suchlike. One of my editors even criticised my choice of a name for a young man. That was my first inkling that it was time I got out of the trade.
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Hi Mari. Your WordPress site is real good. Youβre still a writer!
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At least you put him in a better mood before he got started on your article. π
Not sure I’ve used “whence,” but totally guilty of “whilst.” π
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Hi Betsy. I see “whilst” now and then in writings. It’s a lot more popular then “whence”, I think.
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I wouldn’t be surprised if I had dropped a “from whence it came” somewhere on my blog. π
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I enjoyed your take on the always fascinating topic of human mortality. In 1980, I published for family members the first edition (often updated over the years) of our genealogy. Just about the only thing I have not revised yet is the title: Whence We Came.
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Hi Geoff. The word “whence” definitely is growing on me!
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