Attack of the Young Enthusiasms


Sorry! I’ve been away for a while.

Tonight, I’m relaxing with a Bacardi and Coke, checking my Original Creations website to see if anyone out there knows I’m alive.

Nope! I think I’d better write somethin’ new.


I’m in the middle of re-building my kitchen cabinets. You see there’s a wedding in April, and my wife wants the kitchen looking fresh for all of those relatives coming. No problem. It needed to be done anyway. The deadline has been moved up from “someday” to “Now”.

Now retired, I get up when everyone else has gone to work. It feels right.

In the mornings, relaxed, I usually drink a cup hot cocoa with marshmallows, shower (if necessary), put on clean clothes (if necessary), and figure out what I’m going to do first.

Today, I’ve got to go to the Super Do it Yourself Depot first. I need more oak and more hinges.

I notice the lace on one shoe is about to break. No problem. I’m retired, no worries.

I’m in the store now. The store crew is in a “Rah” “Rah” meeting over by the paint section. That’s good. I know what I want, and where it is. No one will bother me, and I can still get out of here without having to be too nice in spite of my aching, gimpy hip.

I could hear the group cheering as their leader stirred his crew to heights of energy they didn’t know they had. He gave awards. A louder cheer arose.

I grabbed a couple of hinges from a hook on the display and headed for the oak as the cheers and energy grew. I could feel the excitement peaking.

OMG, I’ve got to get out of here!

The crew was turned loose with a final enthusiastic cheer. I had my head down for speed, but looked up just in time to see them flooding toward me. They caught me between the hinges and the oak.

Limping, fifteen people asked me if I needed any help before I made it out of their door.

This is a new kind of undocumented terrorism, until now, to befall the tired baby boomers.

I think I’m about to declare myself disabled, so I can phone it in.


About Ronald D. Drobeck

I've read, learned, been discriminated against, patronized, lied to, laughed at, laughed with, and ignored. I'm not a minority, not tall, not good looking, not skinny, not hairy, and can see 10 miles, but not two feet. I've been a paperboy, college student, licensed nursing home administrator, professional musician (country swing drummer), duck and goose hunter, fisherman, conservationist, Eagle scout, camp counselor, canoeing instructor, lifeguard, comedian, restaurant owner, licensed exterminator, insurance agent, warehouse manager, carpenter, conservative, father of 4, baseball coach, husband, worrier, writer, embryo gardener, photographer, and nice guy. now, old.

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