Too Old For This

Die Hard

You know the line. Usually spoken by an ersatz Bruce Willis type, it is well past cliché, sliding in safely but awkwardly beyond its years to self-parody, as predictable as the pablum in which it appears.

[And note, I like every other Die Hard movie.]

And yet, here I am: Too old for this.

I am too old to go from zero to 200 decibels in 2.4 seconds.
I am too old to respond to random direct marketing pleas.
I am too old to argue that the next political product saves.

Ah yes, my friends, there was a time. Back in the day. When I was a lad. Etc. Ad nauseum.

*

The newspaper-covered, sticky floor of our puppy years is unbecoming as our coats gray.

My angry young man-noise should give way to listening. Quietly.
My gullible-covet should cede time and place to ignoring. Contently.
My blind-pride devotion should know by now that yet another … isn’t.

Ah yes, my friends, the sins of yesteryear. Youth is wasted on, and by, the young. Ad infinitum.

*

Now it wouldn’t be a bad thing to get all of this earlier. But sometimes I think this learning curve doesn’t work that way, which is why it takes 18 years for humans to be considered adults and 18 weeks for actual puppies to be so. So much massive mistaking seems to need the personal touch before we actually ‘get’ it.

And there is a lot to learn.

So to eventually notice how near the word pleas is to the word please is better than nothing. Nearly a full decade past Dante’s “midway on this life we’re bound” … well, OK. Alright. I’ll take it.

*

Not pleas as in please-and-thank-you-so-much.

That’s kindness and gratitude and salutary. Do it.

But pleas as in please please please read my blog or please please please buy my impossibly technically over-named doohickidgety that will bring more people to your blog or, worst of all, please please please vote for me, and all your wildest dreams will come true.

*

Don’t hear what I’m not saying.

Of course there is righteous angry.
Certainly we must sometimes buy.
And voting may even be our duty.

All these proprieties are possible.

*

But … seriously?! As the kids say.

Absolutely everything ticks you off?
This random ad gets your money?
And every 730 days life matters?

If ya think … well that could be a problem. It’s called grow up.

*

Look

All that stuff we think and say and do, that we think and say and do to make the planet(s) spin and the galaxies form and the stars die, does not actually do all that. We’re the highest form of creation, and we suck big time almost all the time. Time to let someone else handle it. Word.
Some random ad — I mean that near-literally, not because the kids say
random — claims it ‘gets’ you and should therefore get your attention. No way. Do these guys also bet on horses in ignorance, loan money to guys in bus depots, and have sex with someone they met in a bar. Oh.
You mean to say the most vital absolutely important choice (let alone mere election) we’ll ever make, ever, in the entire history of mankind, is this one? By 57% of the adult, registered, voters in a single country that’s existed for just 240 years? And this smilin’ dude here, saves? Right.

OK?

*

You know the line. It sometimes has an extra word at the end of it. I do not say additional word but extra.

It isn’t needed in those movies; in fact, absent Bruce Willis it detracts. T’isn’t here either, and for a near-similar reason.

Yet I began this essai with that word in that place, purporting to anchor the subject with its heft. Some do still think it even has gravitas.

Well.

It has its place, its use, sometimes even at our age.

Bruce Willis can still make it work, because long (long) ago he made it his.

He can say that line all he wants. We expect it, and would demand refunds if he didn’t.

[Could do without that annoying damn smirk, though. And not just sayin’ … as the kids say.]

*

Still, I realized as I wrote, not here and, most cogently, not now.

Because the perquisite, even the prerogative, of maturity is not to acquire wisdom, not even to dispense it with wink and nudge, which is as easy as a young man’s misplaced angering and acquiring and admiring.

It is to exercise it.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Recent

Coyotes and Christians

I am not saying Christians are like coyotes. [For that, some could cut caustically to coyotes are like Christians — tricksters, roaming in the dark, feeding on the dead … ] Simply noticed — somewhat in passing, as it’s said, having attained, apparently … achieved? … some kind of state where nearly anything I hear,

Read More »

And Did Dostoevsky Say ‘Beauty Will Save’

Short answer: he did not. Neither did Prince Myshkin, that we know of. Likely both believed it. Beauty — in the person of Christ — will do so. And clearly D wrote of M in The Idiot to explore art and beauty and ugliness and salvation. But did he say it, and did he believe that

Read More »

What I Recalled Watching Netflix

[Television is educational.]   One Saying the same stuff over and over looks like you have different things to say. Two If you’re ever in a below-average film or streaming series, and you beat the tar out of a guy, in a house, and you gaze down in both some shock as also a certain

Read More »

Seeking the King

A line everywhere misattributed to Chesterton reads thus: The young man who rings the bell at the brothel is unconsciously looking for God. This line is not from the great [several senses of the word] man who recently celebrated his 150th birthday, but the mid-century most unmodern novelist Bruce Marshall. The words — which do

Read More »

Random

Ark Of The Christian Life

Not God is the phrase they use in AA for realizing we are, well … not God. And no, I’m not an alcoholic. No really — I’m not. Not God is also the answer to the question, WTF? What is wrong with people, this place, my parents, and our upbringing, education, choices and decisions, and probably

Read More »

Dance With Who Brung Ya

We’re observing Columbus Day with doughy, deep-fried donuts dusted with powdered sugar. It’s hard to hate old Christopher when M makes zeppole. But we are supposed to hate him, we’re told. We’re told, I say! We’re told he to do so because he was a bad man — he was a very bad man. The

Read More »

True Romance

Mentioned last week the Manic Pixie Dream Girl, a term used in film to refer to a female — not a woman, mark you, but a girl or perhaps female, depending on the level of [im]maturity — who exists in a story not for herself, more deeply not as a Self, but only for the

Read More »

Shock and Appall

Our system is perfectly designed for the results we’re getting. We worship wealth and crave power. We have a job called “celebrity” and wink at vulgarity and reward villainy. We admire brashness. We randomly excuse or excoriate peccadilloes: depends on the news cycle, the fame or infamy possible, and the money and status of those involved.

Read More »

Related

16 Precepts

You have asked me how to pursue learning. I pass this along in response — Move from the easier to the difficult Be cautious of speech Be slower still in frequenting places of talk Embrace purity of conscience Pray without ceasing Love your home and to be there often Show geniality to all  Pay no heed to others’

Read More »

Less Is More

I don’t know. What happened next? So, so beautiful. This is why. You like me. This is it. Red White Blue What the fuck? What if we … Why should I? God is love. Show me how. I love you. See you later. Yes, yes, yes! I’m leaving you. Please don’t go. I was wrong.

Read More »

Itch-A-Sketch

Church folk and artists haven’t always been friends. Ha. Get it? Because it seems they’ve almost never been friends, though that’s not true, and shouldn’t be, but just how much it shouldn’t be isn’t clear. It’s as someone said about once about a poet: Dylan Thomas wrote six great poems, but no one knows which

Read More »

Greater Love Blah Blah Blah

Do we doubt locals thanked them for their service? I’m not equating the two. They were wrong; glad we crushed them. Only noting it’s likely they thought as much about such things as we do, which is to say not much. German citizens who believed their leaders, loved their country, watched their sons get on

Read More »