“Do not go gently into that good night ” Dylan Thomas said. He meant death. This is a record of my attempt not to go gently into that dark night of old age. If one takes care of old age, death takes care of itself. Who am I? A baby boomer on the back side of middle age. I don’t seek to capture my lost youth. The fact is I was lazy, indolent, and far more concerned about pleasure than pain. I got through my early professional years in the Army—Airborne School, Ranger School and later—on luck, brains, and the fact that during that war they didn’t care if you didn’t max the PT test. Enlightenment came later, the idea that pushing through the superficial pain brings a reward that far exceeds what comes from sitting on the couch. If I can do the Honolulu Marathon (1983) in 4:20 I can take control. If you’re reading this thank you. If you feel moved to comment, please feel free to do so. If you have questions ask. notgoinggently@hotmail.com
One day of class, one week of finals, and graduation and the semester is over!! I’ll probably go through several more bottles of this nice wine (and a number of others) before the process starts all over again next fall. Oh where, oh where did A Bottle a Night go?
![tastefullyoffensive:
[via]](http://25.media.tumblr.com/50d00ffc7ff52c1d1fdad3cfbc7f589b/tumblr_mme6paeeLN1qewacoo1_500.jpg)
(via relivemymind)
Dog sitting this weekend. This could happen … but its more likely that claws and barking will be involved.
(via thatkindofwoman)
Perfection exists.
