The Old Folk’s Almost Fight, And You Sure Have Pretty Blue Eyes

Back In The Old Folk’s Home Again

Well, here I am again. Back in the old folk’s home again. This time I am noticing things I really can’t do, safely or not, that i thought were worth a try last time. But I was not viewed by my insurance company as “dead enough” last time to draw on their resources anyway, so I guess it is just as well. It certainly feels dead enough, now.
I intend to give my readers stories based on my observations here. First of all, most of the people here are apolitical. That means I am an extreme case. About the only thing they follow at all are those things that affect them directly. Maybe i’ll even succeed in getting a little away from Trump.

last night, one of the residents, Edwina, decided everyone she saw had blue eyes, and wanted to know that she had noticed. So she told them. Unfortunately, most of those didn’t have blue eyes. Knowing that, most  contradicted her. Soon, everyone knew what the story was. Everyone who could hear, that is.

By the time she got got to hazel-eyed me, I’d decided I had always had blue eyes and was proud of it.  it seemed to make her happy.

This morning, at breakfast, she told me she couldn’t really see or hear, both of which I pretty well knew. Or maybe I’m just getting older, and thought I knew. Still trying to fit in, I guess.

The average age here must be in the eighties. Probably the late eighties.

Everyone seems to know “the war” means WWII, and most have a ready answer if you ask what they did during it, though many are not interested in expounding on it. Only a few seem to recall much about the depression which preceded it. I haven’t broached the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki yet, but have full expectation of unqualified support.

That would have my own support, I think. No wonder, though, that so many look back in hindsight and think it a big mistake. Inventing the bomb in the first place was probably the big mistake. But what if Hitler had gotten there first, which he tried to do.

War, what a tangled concept!

Just listened to a physicist going on about time, one of physicists’ favorite topics. What a bunch of crap! Little more than a smart ass talking just to hear himself go on. None of them seem to have any understanding of Godel’s theorem. Godel’s theorem is all about what you get when you try to answer deeper and deeper questions. Bottom line is that if you insist on getting answers to all your questions, you have to open yourself up to getting contradictions.

But I sound rather like a smart ass myself when I speak disparagingly about the congress of physicists. I wonder why we hold someone who was better than us at comprehending physics to a standard higher than we do to ourselves. Why can we not recognize crap when uttered from one of them as easily as we recognize it coming out of the mouth of an old person? I regard this as a byproduct of my own having come from a field in which most people “don’t get it,” math. But it probably is as much attributable to having grown up in a family that was always skeptical  of experts.

My father, in particular, was highly biased against experts. But my mother was a lot like that, too. They both often referred to “psuedo-intellectuals.”

This morning I thought two of the people I regularly eat breakfast with, one an ex-marine, the other a corpsman from the army, might come to blows over whether the people who pass out drugs were rightly concerned about the marine’s using Oxicodiene on the sly. I think the ex-marine, Ken, had never heard of Fentinole, the deadly additive to heroine that many eventually switch to, and which street drugs often contain. He probably has no street connection, anyway. The argument, though, had nothing to do with the street of today. It was from the war, and had more to do with authority than drugs. Ken felt it was none of the old folks home’s business whether he used Oxicodeine on the sly or not. James, the ex-army guy, used to be the one who had to check the troops for syphilis. He sympathized with the old folk’s, home, of course. It probably also weighed on him that he had been an official at the top of the animal sciences division of UCD for years. Kind of builds respect for authority. Besides, I thought it much more likely that he had heard something about the pain killer epidemic sweeping the country just now, while Ken very likely has not.

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6 Responses to The Old Folk’s Almost Fight, And You Sure Have Pretty Blue Eyes

  1. Hank Raymond says:

    I didn’t know you had moved there. Keep your blog going now that you’re there. One thing I’ve observed is that people lose interest in everything as they get older. Try not to let that happen to you. My dad lost interest in everything. That makes life very boring. My goal is to stay interested.

  2. Cara Brownell says:

    “Bottom line is that if you insist on getting answers to all your questions, you have to open yourself up to getting contradictions.”
    At the heart of this entry, and an idea I will meditate on.

  3. Barbara Truman says:

    Well hello Blue-Eyes,
    I miss you!

  4. Barbara Truman says:

    there exist true intellectuals (and even real experts) as well . . . just sayin’! 😉

  5. Diana Hamilton says:

    Even though I tend to get behind on reading your blog, & rarely comment, please keep ’em coming.

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