"What sport shall we devise here in this garden, To drive away the heavy thought of care." (Richard II)

...For those who deign to read this posting on my blog--beware. The words I put together here are merely my way of venting how I feel about things that are currently going on in my life, and are only incidentally of interest to other readers. The same holds true for my "Memoirs". I have no other way to relieve the vagaries of geriatric problems, and I find it unsatisfactory to shout it out in the street like some old bards used to do. I'd like to begin by quoting Lear (to himself) "I am a man more sinned against than sinning." I have not had any apologies from anyone in this year's show for misreading my blogs and taking what I wrote as something pejorative about them. What I had to say was not about them, but about me. My blogs were read to a ballroom filled with people after the show that night and should not have been privy to an open forum.

"I am disgrac'd, impeach'd, and baffled here, Pierce'd to the soul with slander's venomous spear." (Richard II).

...I call that every bit of a slanderous action which I do not deserve. (Again I implore the reader to understand that these are the musings of a disappointed man, and one who never said, wrote, implied, or intended any pejorative comments about any author, producer, performer, or other cast member of that show, so I don't know what the problem is.) A good friend of mine e-mailed me an apt quotation I think appropriate to print since it did not come as a comment to a blog:

"If a person has a problem with me, if they don't like me or something that they 'thought' that I did, well, that's their problem not mine. I have learned that this is so true...their problem with me is really none of my business... (Anonymous),

...and so, "Let the judges be judged!"

...I'm not at all certain, but I think God said that last one although I don't know him personally. My friend sent that to me this morning. Perhaps she got it from him--or her.

...I'm going to shift this posting into another direction besides my disappointment with certain people whom I thought to be my friends, but who are turning out to be fair-weather ones. (Or is it "four feather" ones who fly away in any breeze?) I am getting truly perturbed at the geriatric things that are plaguing me. Ageing sucks. I've been afflicted with neuropathy, intermittent claudication, atrial fibrillation leading to a pacemaker, vertigo, squamous cell carcinomas, chronic pulmonary something or other, PTSD (although not necessarily geriatric--though it might reach that point), and a couple of other things which need not be mentioned in the event children are present. I also move better with a cane than without it, and need a scooter if there are long distances required more easily accomplished by the able bodied walking world. I will never use a walker or a wheelchair. I am not ready to join that group. One thing that is absolutely required is that I stay alive until my next birthday in February. At that time, Rhoda will become eligible to receive monthly compensation from the VA which ought to go some way to allow her to live the luxurious life to which she has become accustomed as my wife--that is, she'll get this monthly income only after I die. And let me just say this as I close this off--I'm not accustomed to the life of illnesses requiring a multitude of medication and doctors' appointments twice a week. Secondly, do not pay any attention to this posting. This one is purely, and solely, a personal way of talking to myself. So, if you do have the temerity to read it, burn it when you finish. Love to all my friends. Baron