Vaughn C. Hardacker
Once again, the holidays are over, and we start the infinite journey through January, February, March, and the first half of April. I suffer from S.A.D. (Seasonal Affected Disorder), a depression caused by life as a mushroom. I get up in the dark, and a few hours later, or so it seems, it’s dark again. Between the two, I deal with the B. S. I get inundated with. Today, it’s not too bad; the sun is out for the first time in a week (someone must have sacrificed a goat), but the temperature is in the single digits with a brisk wind creating a below-zero wind chill. Then there are the heating bills! I’m depressed enough without going there …
Having finished that rant, I can get to what is bothering me. For years, I have told people I will live forever. God doesn’t want me, and the devil is afraid I’ll take over. Since I was stationed in Japan, I’ve not been a fan of Christmas. The Japanese are predominantly Buddhist, so why does every retailer have Santa Claus in their store windows every December? Maybe Japanese retailers are Christian; damned if I know. The entire holiday is a sham anyway. For example, Christ was born in the twelfth month. Okay, I can accept that. The only problem I have is that the year was based on agricultural seasons in the Hebrew calendar. The twelfth month was March, and April 1st was New Year’s Day. Astronomers studied the descriptions of the stars as listed in the scriptures and have said that Christ was, in reality, born in the Spring. I’ve read that the early catholic church wanted to attract people to the new religion, so they moved the holiday to December because it was close to a major pagan holiday. The holiday has lost its true purpose to celebrate the birth of Christ. However, the three wise men hijacked it and started the gift-giving, which got out of control. Suicide rates peak over the holidays … enough on that.
I am not looking forward to my 78th trip around the sun. Why, you ask? I have been quite lucky in my advanced years. I have been able to stay involved in veteran issues and have had fewer physical issues than many of the people I know. I do have type II diabetes and suffer from PTSD (I still flinch when I hear loud noises, and the sounds of gunfire made me give up hunting–when I hear a gunshot, I still want to dive to the ground. One day, I woke up and saw the obituary of someone I’ve known most of my life, and it dawned on me that I’m getting to the point where I know more dead people than live ones. I am the sole survivor of my nuclear family, and most of the people I knew led more sedate lives and took care of themselves better than I did. I am living proof that God has a special affection for drunks and idiots.
As I embark on 2025, I have realized that my body has finally convinced my brain that I’m old, and it makes me feel it, too. In December, I tripped and slammed my ribs into a nightstand. For two weeks, I was in severe pain. During the week before Christmas, Jane, my significant other, came into my room holding a paper towel. She opened it and said, “We have to have a funeral.” On Christmas of 2023, her granddaughters gave her two Society Finches, one of which was dead and enclosed in a paper towel. I have known many animal lovers, but none as avid as Jane.
A few years back, we hit a moose, and when I got out, she ran across the road. I asked, “Where are you going?” She said, “To see if the moose is all right.” I said, “You’re talking about an animal that may weigh a half ton–and I doubt if it’s in a good mood right now.” I had hit the moose a glancing blow and saw it in the ditch beside the road. It got to its feet and trotted off into the woods, back to my story. I told her I’d buy her another bird. We drove to the closest pet store–in Bangor, where I bought her two birds. When we got home, one of them got loose. We chased it around the dining room, and it seemed to be having a great time observing the fools trying to catch it. It landed on our china hutch and got up on a small ladder, hoping to catch it in a net. Remember the fall I took a few weeks before, which had finally stopped hurting? By now, I’m sure you’ve figured out that I fell off the ladder and smashed the ribs on the other side. Today is the first day I’ve been pain-free. Fortunately, we safely captured the bird and placed it in its new home.
My next 2025 issue will be in the works shortly after this blog post. In late January, I’ll have cataracts removed. I’m hoping that it will give me a better outlook on life!
In closing, I HOPE YOU ALL HAD TERRIFIC HOLIDAYS AND A SAFE AND PROSPEROUS 2025
Maine winters gave me S.A.D., too. I didn’t last long in Maine. I escaped. I share your Grinchness, but living in New Mexico, I no longer have S.A.D. You manage to make sore ribs and depression entertaining, which is amazing, because that’s no fun to live through. I hope the new birds are doing well and that you get some sunshine. Maybe you can do what a lot of northerners do and spend a winter down here sometime.
I understand all too well. In 1967, I was a youing Marine and they ordered me to Yuma, AZ. I drove from Caribou, Maine to Yuma in a beat up Chevy I bought for $100. That was before interstate highways and the only AC in the car was what I called four-seventy air conditioning–four windows down and drive seventy miles an hour. The most memorable thing that happened was when I stopped in a one pump gas station near Tuscon at 8:30 in the morning. An old man was sitting under a (it wasn’t really a full porch) half-roof in the shade. Above his head was a thermometer reading 120 degrees in the shade (it was late July BTW). I asked him how far away was Yuma. He looked at me as if I was insane and said: Yuma! You goin’ to Yuma? I wouldn’t go down to that heat for no one! Needless to say, my knees went weak and February in North Maine sounded like heaven. I did like it in Yuma though. Too bad within six months I was in Vietnam, same temps, but 90% humidity. BTW, the birds are doing fine. I wish Jane would pay as much attention to me!
May the days get longer and the year get better! Write on!
They always do … that’s what keeps me going. That I’m a hard-headed prodegy of Scots, Irish, Welsh, and Saxon heritage.
That, and I’m a hard-headed prodegy of Scots, Irish, Welsh, and Saxon heritage.
Amazingly entertaining grinch-ness. Make sunlight come soon!
Fortunately, it always does. One thing about winter … it sure makes me appreciate the two weeks of summer we get in Aroostook County.
My kinda rant. I’m so understanding of the ribs from hell issue. Done it twice and my wife is currently in perpetual agony after doing an early morning flip in our driveway. The cataract surgery should make a huge difference…Mine did.
I guess we friends of Bill W understand the value of learning how to take what we like from life and ignore the rest. I tell myself that winter ain’t all that bad. At least when it ends your house is still standing unlike tornadoes, hurricane, and wildfires. Besides in 2009, I made a choice to return to my roots–frozen as they might be. Isn’t Maine God’s country? Why else would he (she?) put it in deep freeze five month every year.
My husband is mid 70s and reads local obits every day. Calls it his Last Man Standing check. My ninety something mum stays with us every May through early December for various reasons but has to return to her home out west for winter and spring because of the cold gray weather here. I love it myself but she needs the heat and the constant sunshine. The only thing in our life we can control is our attitude…how we react to what’s thrown at us. Even though you suffer through the winter weather, you’ve kept your sense of humor which will definitely help you deal. There are sunny days ahead. And watch your footing!
I learned a long time ago that if you lose the ability to laugh at the irritating things in life all hope is gone! Several times a day I look at the sky (or ceiling) and say: I know, Lord. This too will pass. On a positive note pain does let us know we are alive!
Julianne, you are 100% correct. I learned a long time ago that if you lose the ability to laugh at the irritating things in life all hope is gone! Any veteran understands this, I look back on things that scared the bejesus out of me in Vietnam and laugh. Then I tell myself: That was a great screw-up. I really learned something that time!
Oh, Vaughn! Gentle hugs. Wait until you see all the colors you’ve been missing! I gorped around like a kid in a candy store after I had my cataracts done – and no more distance glasses. You will be thrilled. I’m so sorry about the loss of the finch, we have conures, you don’t want to know about our electric bill keeping their one room heated to tropical standards. Dr. Hersey is a great avian vet – she’s with Hothams. Stay well, and heal quickly!
I’ve been told positive things about the procedure from people who’ve had it done. This may be a good time to do it! The sun won’t be an issue until May–or is it June. Whatever, I’ll still be here.
Who are you kidding, you were always a Clutz. Smiles Penny
Shhhhh … they may not know that!
Love yah!
Thank you all for brightening my day! The sun hasn’t come out but 1 day since New Years! I’m thinking of buying a goat and sacrificing it to the Sun God!
Having had a fall onto my ribs, myself, I offer my sincere sympathy. Find a warm place by the firs and read a good book!