Welcome to Bud’s Blog

Posted March 1, 2009 by oldereyes
Categories: feeling older

The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes – Marcel Proust

Sometimes Older Eyes work, too Bud

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Necessary Definitions

Sage – a wise man; a man of gravity and wisdom; especially, a man venerable for years, and of sound judgment and prudence.

Curmudgeon – an ill-tempered old person full of stubborn ideas or opinions.

Fool – A person with poor judgment or little intelligence; a jester, a person whose role was to entertain a sovereign and the court, often with foolishness.
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I’ve been wondering lately what it would be like to be able to relive my life knowing what I know now. Or if I was able to give my grown children a view of the world through my Older Eyes, would it change their lives? Here’s a provocative proposition: If I could get every twenty-year old to look at the world through sixty-four year old eyes for just a few minutes, it would either change them for the better or kill them. Provocative but probably not true. I doubt there are many young men making bucket lists as a result of watching Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman.

With a do-over unlikely and getting my children to listen to my archaic opinions only slightly less so, I’ll record the view through my Older Eyes here in Bud’s Blog.   As you read each post, you decide … Sage, Curmudgeon, or Fool … we can agree to disagree on which is which. Your comments are welcome, whatever your age.   If what you read changes you for the better, I’d especially like to know.   Hopefully there will be no casualties.   If you are new here and want a taste of my Older Perspective before diving in, The Best of Feeling Older offers a few of my favorite posts on aging.  Finally, if my work inspires you to try blogging … or even if you think, Jeez, I can do this better than Older Eyes – there are a series of posts on doing just that on my page, Starting a WordPress Blog.

Getting On

Posted May 24, 2016 by oldereyes
Categories: humor

Tags: , , ,

TLI am not a car guy.  OK, when I graduated from college, I bought a brand new Alfa Romeo, which was pretty cool (but, it being Italian) it was a mechanical nightmare.  I moved on to a Volvo when I got married and had a brief rebound affair with a Fiat, which taught me the meaning of Fix It Again Tony.  Since then it’s been Toyotas, Hondas and Chevies.  See?  Not a car guy.  But few years ago when business was good, I bought an Acura TL which is the best car I’ve ever owned.   Quite simply, I love it.  It is, however, Getting On, in years and in miles.  It runs great and is as fast as ever but several of the luxury accessories I love are, shall we say, misbehaving.  For one, the outdoor temperature sensor has failed, so where I used to see 72°, I now see .  Unless, of course, it rains or I take it to the car wash.  Then, until the sensor dries, I see -22° as the outside temperature.  Big deal, you say.  You live in Southern California. … it’s never cold.  Except that the Acura climate control uses the outside temperature to determine whether air conditioning is required, so it can be 105° outside … the air conditioning won’t come on until the sensor dries out.  I can live with that. Read the rest of this post »

Sixty-Twelve

Posted May 20, 2016 by oldereyes
Categories: feeling older

Tags: , , , , , ,

wpid-happy_birthday_to_you.jpgBack in 2002, my wife Muri and I saw what would turn out to be one of the last Righteous Brothers concerts at the Orange County Performing Arts Center.   Their brand of blue-eyed soul (particularly apt slugline since I was a member of the first inter-racial fraternity at the University of Connecticut) had exploded onto the charts in 1965, the year Muri and I started dating.  Their version of Unchained Melody would remain our song for going on fifty years.

Talking to the audience between numbers, Bobby Hatfield talked about getting older, saying he was in his very late fifties.  I’m fifty-twelve, he said, a line that brought appreciative laughter from the gray-haired crowd.   Hatfield would die the next year at fifty-thirteen.
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One More Sunset

Posted May 15, 2016 by oldereyes
Categories: photography

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One of the best things about our time spent in our Little House in the Desert has been watching the desert sunsets from our patio, which looked over the San Tan Mountains.   Last night, Arizona offered me one more sunset before we leave for good.  As always, my camera was nearby and I recorded it to share with you.  It is a fitting farewell, I think.

Leaving Arizona

Posted May 14, 2016 by oldereyes
Categories: feeling older

Tags: , , , , , ,

azThe refrigerator is empty.  So are the closets.  The cable and internet will turn off Sunday.   Our personal items and a few decorator items we’ll keep are boxed and waiting to be loaded into the car.  Our realtor, Kay, stopped by yesterday to tell us that based on the inspection report, the buyer has accepted the house as is … and the closing has been moved up to may 31.  Without the personal items and with our grandkids in Utah, the house doesn’t really feel like the place we called our Little House in the Desert.  Tomorrow, we will be Leaving Arizona. Read the rest of this post »

Turn the Page

Posted May 9, 2016 by oldereyes
Categories: feeling older

Tags: , , , ,

tmp_15137-th(9)-1290864163Late last night, I received an email from our realtor that someone had made an offer on our Little House in the Desert.  Just the fact that the house has a name should tell you that it was more than a house to us.   It was a home away from home, even though we didn’t spend more than the equivalent of a month or two there each year.  In this Little House, we got to be there for little housethe birth of our three grandchildren.  My wife, Muri, and I adopted both our children at about ten weeks old, so holding a baby … a grandchild yet … shortly after birth was a new miracle to us.  In the ten years that our daughter’s family lived there, it was Nana and Papa’s house, a place where the grandkids could come for a night or two … or the whole family could come for dinner. Then, the grandkids moved to Utah with their parents and the Little House went on the market. The offer we received last night was the first offer in eight months and it was substantially below our asking price. We went to bed wondering whether we should even counter but I awoke to a second email. Our realtor had done what a good realtor should do … she convinced the buyer to consider a much more reasonable price. Tonight, we are under contract. By the end of June, our Little House will be someone elses.
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Almost Seventy-Two

Posted May 6, 2016 by oldereyes
Categories: curmudgeonly rants

Tags: , , ,

curmudgeonFive or six years ago, my wife Muri and I were at a Neil Diamond concert at (where else?) the Greek Theater.  At the intermission, a man sitting nearby struck up a conversation with me.  Ever since I passed fifty years old, I’ve kidded with Muri that I must have a sign on my head that says Old People Talk to Me.   Maybe that’s why I find myself talking to myself so much these days.  But on to the point of this post.  My fellow Neil Diamond fan asked me how old I was and when I responded, he told me that he was seventy-five and that the road from sixty-five to seventy-five was a difficult one.  I have no idea why he felt the need to share this with me.  He looked pretty good for seventy-five and my Inner Curmudgeon was convinced he was fishing for a compliment. Neither of us were about to give it to him. Read the rest of this post »

The Real World

Posted April 26, 2016 by oldereyes
Categories: spirituality

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P1020197Friday afternoon, I drove to Arrowhead Ranch, a camp and retreat center in Lake Arrowhead, for a retreat with a group of about 40 men from my Thursday Night Men’s Meetings.   That is my official … if not totally genuine … reason for not posting since last Wednesday.   The truth is, nothing inspired me to write.   Yes, Jack London said, You can’t wait for inspiration, you have to go after it with a club, but since writing is my avocation not my vocation (avocation sounds so much more grown-up than hobby, doesn’t it?), sometimes I choose to just wait.   Or retreat, in this case.  But here I am, back again.  Did you miss me?
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