I have another meeting today at 10. After that, I’m toying with the idea of just walking around downtown. I haven’t spent time with my wider angle zoom, and I like to challenge my creativity with a single lens perspective. Greenery still isn’t out, I might come up with squat. Still, making the effort is the thing. Perhaps after lunch. I’ll post any successes here.

And in reference to my trolls the other day, thanks Bill. In some ways, my online audience knows my nature better than physical friends. Fakes don’t last long, right?

Later: So I attend a public meeting and … their A/V wasn’t working. Guess who crawled, climbed and fixed it all, so we didn’t waste our time? I’m the guy with the white knees on my blue jeans. You can spot me in any crowd … (LOL) … I should start carrying a 25’ HDMI cable with me at all times, these days.

Nice day. Town’s still a bit gritty. Heading to Canyon.

Oh, and some lady busted out of a coffee shop asking for my autograph. I had no idea who she thought I was. I signed “Adam Sandler” just to be funny, and beat a hasty retreat. I’m gonna have to pay karma for that one, I think …

Protein and caffeine? HELLSYEAH. Tastes decent.

MUCH LATER, THE PROMISED WEB GALLERY: Here you go. My creativity didn’t spark, but there’s a double handful of what I would call “tourist shots” here for you to enjoy. Be sure to stick with them long enough to see the images of the “mighty Santa Fe River.”

Note that Pixieset - as a default - places that huge header image at the top of the gallery. Be sure to scroll down when that image covers the screen, otherwise you’ll wonder what the hell I’m talking about. Not as bad on mobile, but on a desktop, you might think I only posted one photo (that image of the most-photographed house in Santa Fe). I need to find out how to manage that size so there’s a hint about scrolling to see more content. Alas, no service is perfect …

THOUGHTS MUCH MUCH LATER: An individual said at the meeting today, “None of us get out of here alive.” I don’t know why that well-worn statement hit me harder today, but it did. My late father passed of myelodysplasia (theoretically brought on by loading armaments on Samoa after the Battle of Tarawa - benzine exposure caused severe illness at that time) at 78. That’s fourteen years in the future for me, at worst. Fourteen years. FOURTEEN YEARS. The longest a male has lived in my family is between 81 and 83 (it’s hard to tell in my family, due to adoption and other issues). This is why I work so hard on my fitness, my mental acuity. My Dad stayed in great shape until the blood cancer required transfusions, so I can expect to keep most of my fitness over these fourteen to twenty years.

My priorities were already decisive, yet now I’m reprioritizing. I disdain this culture, I really do. The pressure to fit into this ‘senior’ mold is significant.

I don’t want it. I won’t accept it. I would rather die of hypothermia on a mountainside than in a diaper in a senior care home. Sounds harsh, but it’s my choice. I used to fear this type of death - no longer. I accept the death that will come with whatever pursuit I attempt. And I will be happy doing so. Fuck the system. Give me the strenuous life. I’m blessed with most of the fitness I had in my 30’s at 64. I need to celebrate that to the fullest. I want to live so hard, love so hard, all that’s left of me is bone chips and a couple of strips of jerky.

I feel the need to roar at the top of my lungs in a canyon. I need to hear my spirit. Pity those poor cyclists down around the cottonwoods at the Galisteo Preserve tomorrow morning.

There is only now. Not yesterday, not tomorrow. If you’re not doing what your soul cries out for now, you’re a traitor to your soul. Stop fucking waiting.

Cut that cord, shout that truth. Be your raw, visceral self. Stand in your light, don’t let others’ shadows dim you. Be brave. Take that risk. We can all do this. It’s time. I could consider it terrible, this realization that the endgame is within sight - yet there are people who live for decades without ever really having a life.

What if I were five years from endgame? One? How would my choices be different right now? And if they would be, why am I not making those choices today?

Use up, wear out your life. Don’t sit back and try to extend it further by avoiding strenuous experience. The boredom will kill you faster than any adventure, if you’re anything like I am. I’ve written similar things to this before, but I have never been so clearly confronted with the horrible realities of becoming a senior in America today, as I was in the meeting this morning. People my age unable to run a projector (it helps if you actually plug in the HDMI cable). Unable to operate their own laptops, flailing with mice and touchpads. Bitching about their phones. Moaning about the chairs. Christ, I couldn’t wait to get the info I wanted and get the hell out of there. My mind is projectile-vomiting the visions thrust upon me. I will be God-damned if you’ll ever catch me on a fucking “pickle ball court” … whatever the hell that is (I don’t want to know). I play squash with a ball that’s hard as a freaking brick. Leaves bruises if you get hit. My kind of game.

Can someone drop me on a desert island, or in the deep woods someplace? I think a need a month to recover from this meeting.

I’ll write more about this at another time, after some personal circumstances complete.

[Yeah, this is what happens when I finally have ‘alone time’ to think. Excuse the expletives. I walked and pondered throughout Santa Fe today for some hours. Be afraid. Very afraid. My mind is on a different plane at the moment.]