Put a Name on it.. why I hate the hill named Larry.

Larry.. I forgot to take it from the bottom and sure as hell am not walking back down to get that pic.

Larry.. I forgot to take it from the bottom and sure as hell am not walking back down to get that pic.

“Age catches all in her slowly closing embrace,” this is a somewhat eloquent interpretation of time and its affect upon us. A more blunt perception of this would be “Getting Old Sucks.” This presents itself in both subtle and not so subtle ways..

The subtle…..

Strained recollections of things once so common, the absence of recognition of the who’s who on the red carpet(which your watching cause you cant find the remote to change the TV back to the history channel), or the painful revelation that your favorite high school song is on the classic rock station…

Then, there is the not so subtle..

Deciding how important an errand is based on is it worth putting on pants, the use of ointments.. (the key here is frequency and plurality) and lastly .. how and where gravity has to do with it..

stairs.. body parts.. walking uphill….

These brings me to the uncomfortable issue of Larry.

As further evidence of my chronological placement I still use the old southern technique of the anthromorphization of inanimate objects to channel frustration and aggression..

AKA..”put a name on it”

In this case it is a unpleasant hill on Otterman St  as it leads to my most recent source of inspiration and more importantly the closest source of my beloved Caffeine from where I am house guesting here in Greensburg. My hosts are the most marvelous of souls….but for one inexplicable disinterest in coffee…thus giving cause for my morning trek.. a overly long short walk up the back of LARRY, the name I have placed upon this most hated incline of asphalt and brick.

Each morning here.. I have been reminded of time’s not so subtle effects.. specifically the harsh mistress of gravity on my body parts..  and as for the passersby on this grueling stretch of ground between myself and caffeine I am sure they wonder what happened to make me mumble “f*%k you Larry.” about every third step I take.


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