O, WHEN I WAS EIGHT YEARS OLD!

O, when I was eight
    I remember
How I dreaded getting old!
    I had heard of teen-age
kids, visiting the dentist
    or the doctor, and
getting wisdom teeth pulled
    or shots...

(I didn't like the clinky chrome
    devices lying around on
slinky trays--then-- in doctors'
    offices--and I still don't.)

When I was eight, I wanted a
    birthday party, like
Joe, Bob, Charles, and Mary---
    One where you drop clothespins
into a milk bottle, like a bombing plane!
    But my parents worked, and
there was no time for parties.

Now it is seventy-two years later
    and I'm ten-times-eight old.
I have lived 26.280 days since
    that eighth birthday.
Yes, the earth has rotated countless
    times since then.

Since then I have---
    worked many days, driven many
miles, met a lot of good people,
    met some strange ones, too---
I have mowed many lawns, I have
    cooked many eggs, eaten a lot
of hamburgers, directed children's
    choirs, directed adult choirs,
sung solos...
    I have watched many movies,
read scores of books...I have tried
    to do good deeds and set
an example.

Now tomorrow is my eightieth birthday---
    Ten times when I was eight...
I no longer ride a bicycle, roller skate,
    read comic books, see double
features at the Lyceum on Saturday
    afternoons, or get a 20 cent ham
salad sandwich at Woolworth afterward---

I don't play cowboys and Indians anymore,
    in that neat alley behind our Reid house...
or play Sergeant York with my Daisy
    Red Ryder BB gun...
I don't hunt for "translers" or shoot basketball
    goals with Country Boy Bob...

I don't, when I'm sick, stay home from school,
    dump my Tinkertoys and Lincoln Logs
in the floor, drink a Delaware Punch and
    listen to "Queen For A Day" on KICA Radio.

I don't read "Dave Dawson In the R.A.F."
    anymore, and tho' I have the complete
set of Zane Gray, I mostly only pick up
    "Riders of the Purple Sage"---
now and then.

Yes, I'll be eighty tomorrow and I'll admit,
    I do a right smart of remembering
old days, old times, old friends.
    After all, wasn't it in that wise and
pithy show, "Downton Abbey," that
    Carson, in his deep bass voice
said: "The business of life is the
    acquisition of memories. In the end
that's all there is."

I write about those things and find that
    others write back about them.

We wonder: Why We here? After all,
    in the great cosmic scheme of
time with no beginning and no end,
    we're certainly the late-comers on
the scene...and ever since we got here,
    we have been considerable
trouble for the Creator.
   He must have really loved and
wanted us.

Anyway, eighty tomorrow and the
    Beloved Editor said: "Well, for
sure, you're a gonna have ONE
    birthday party in your life. I'm
gonna see to it!"

"No, No," I said. "I wanted one when
     I was eight...but not now...
It's too late."

But maybe...could we make up a big
    pot of chili tomorrow...
and have some good old Oscar Meyer
    HOT DOGS!" (with onion)

*********30*******
BY MIL
01/30/14