Some signs of aging

Where am I?
Where am I?

I know I took this picture in the summer of 1983 because it says so on the back of the print. But for the life of me I can’t remember where I took it. All I know for sure is that it proves that I’ve been taking pictures of barns for at least thirty years. I have friends who weren’t born when I took this picture.


I know that I mentioned in a previous post that I stopped getting on Facebook back in October, and Twitter a week or so later. Now, I haven’t dropped my accounts, so I could post again or read what other people think is important, but the odds are that I won’t. I tell myself that I am simplifying my life, but we probably all know that is too facile an argument. I think that it has something to do with trying to avoid the personal drama of people I know, something else to do with not really caring about what a celebrity thinks, and a lot to do with the aging process. I find that as I age, my focus is narrowing in most areas. But not in all areas. Recently I started expanding the number of blogs that follow to include more that have scenic photographs. Contemplating nature, even once or twice removed, is satisfying.

And speaking of aging, it occurred to me on Sunday morning that I have lived more than 50% of my life. That gave me pause. Consider that I spent most of my life working in one form or another for most of my life. What did I gain in that time? I have a few friends, a monthly pension, a lot of memories ( many good, some amazingly bad), and my wonderful wife whom I met in the workplace.

There are many days when the memories seem much more important than the daily news. Too often the daily news is what catches my attention because of the sensationalism surrounding the events, and the emotions that the sensationalism engender. Cable news is gonzo journalism. It can be amusing, but is it something that I want to watch every day? Well, I do in the morning, but I’m thinking about going back to watching the local news. Perhaps I would be better served reading a rel newspaper. I stopped doing that a year or so ago, but I’m considering starting up again. It’s what an old guy would do.