The Good, The Bad, and The Beautiful

View from our room.
Hampton Inn, Green River, WY

Yeah, it mighta' been the last long road trip ever for Julieann and I...eleven days in all.  6+ days of driving. It was around 3,000 miles total, Sac-town to the Black Hills and back. Pretty fine adventure with tours through Yellowstone and the Tetons on the way and fastest return possible on the flip-flop.

We recently picked up a newer mid-size SUV that fits our current lifestyle pretty damn good and we (read "I") was anxious to test it's legs.  So we headed out with rear seats folded forward, bags and gear aplenty packed in back, small cooler for snacks and such, navigation instruments set and reservations made.

We would spent nights in some purely Western towns such as Jackpot, Jackson Hole and Cody. The route was familiar as I had made it a couple times before, accidentally on purpose collecting material for my book "Badass - The Harley Davidson Experience" and heading for the Mother of all Motorcycle Rallies - Sturgis.

So here's the rundown; the Good, the Bad and the Beautiful of our run:

The Good:

Another good: Breakfast
with the Presidents
at Rushmore
(It's not about the food.) 

• Traveling with wife and pal of 50+ years was fun! We hollered at dumb drivers (including ourselves once each) and shared a few laughs every day.
• Julieann's family - good folks from Rapid City I am proud to know. A never-ending curiosity to me why we are so far apart politically from most of them, why common ground seems so elusive.
• The Black Hills - a Spring of steady rain has filled the creeks and lakes.  It is greener than we recall seeing it...ever.
• Sturgis/Deadwood - Looking and feeling good there, always. (Especially during the Motorcycle rally.)
• The hotels - Yes there are good ones out there folks and we found a few. A lot of people in this service industry trying to give folks a decent night's rest and are doing a good job of it.  Recommended: Hampton Inn in Green River, Wyoming and Gold Country Best Western in Winnemucca, Nevada.
• The hay. Yes that's right; the hay.  Impressive seeing the crops of large round bales and rectangular big and small bales in the fields. Amber shapes lying in green fields. I wondered about the price in today's market and looked it up as some sort of economy barometer? Currently, the price of a bale of hay depends on grass or alfalfa - generally a large round bale of Alfalfa (weighs around a ton) a little over $161.  (Yeah, yeah I know...I have too much time on my hands.)
• The Hippies - Yes folks they are still out there, roaming the country looking for Nirvana. The long hair, floor length skirts, sandals...the whole nine yards.  Except now the hair is gray, the bellies potted and the "look" seems pretty weird. (Funny, at times in the 70's I thought I wanted to be one, but these modern-day old folks have removed that desire. I do share that pot belly look though.)  

The Bad:

• Between here and there you can't find decent food.  We looked.  We tried.  We failed. Road food is the pits folks. (Yes, we're spoiled.)
• California forest fires. They blocked the sky and fouled the air all the way from Sacramento to the Tetons. (The year was 2018.)
• Thoughtless drivers. Sitting in the hammer lane without passing, abrupt lane changes, following too close. (Where TF do these people come from?!)
• Highway construction.  Sure we need it but that doesn't mean we like it.
• The hours of driving.  Even when you have a ton of time it still seems to take too much.  Reckon they drag on more when you are older. (But they were very cool through the Tetons and Yellowstone.)

The Beautiful:

• The Black Hills - so green and gorgeous with full lakes and streams. Like we have never seen them in 50 years of travel back and forth. (Okay, okay I kind of said this already but hey, some things bear repeating!)
• The West - C'mon folks, America the Beautiful is alive and doing okay right?! (In spite of the fires, our new EPA and Department of Interior's efforts to F___ it all up.) 
• My Wife and travel partner - she is always a step ahead of me in thoughtful actions and words. I see that capacity in my son and daughter too. (One of the most admirable traits a human can have eh?!)
• Scott Jacobs art Gallery in Deadwood, South Dakota. (I have already paid homage to that master of photo realism here: http://tclifecycles.blogspot.com/2018/08/deadwood-sd-and-man-scott-jacobs.html)

Now many of you have asked (none actually) why that might be our last long road trip. Well, when you reach a certain age you seem to run out of gas a little quicker than the vehicle you are driving knowwhatimeanVern?

P.S.  For you Clint fans, I added "Beautiful" because there is no "Ugly" to this story.  (Wait.  There WAS that dinner at the Winnemucca Inn and Casino...)

Deadwood, SD and The Man, Scott Jacobs

It was the Black Hills famous 2018 Sturgis Rally,
Julieann and I had headed there to visit family
And tour some old familiar places

As part, I got to wander the main drag of Deadwood

Famous mining town
And site of the
Assassination of Wild Bill Hickok
By the villain "Crooked Nose" Jack McCall

There were a bunch of Harleys
Lining and cruising the drag
And all the shops were geared for
Serious tourist time
The best though
And one I had not seen before

Scott Jacobs and a fan.

Was the Scott Jacobs Art Gallery


I have been a fan of Scott's Harley
And related art for a long time
Scott is a great photo-realism artist
He has been the first official artist
For the Harley Davidson Motor Company
For many years

So I was happy to see his large establishment
Right there on Main Street
I got pretty busy
Admiring the works of Scott
And other artists he features
Including members of his family.

While there I thought I recognized him
I introduced myself
And thanked him for his work
He had a natural, friendly nature
And readily agreed to autograph
A book of his works on sale there

Thanks for the inscription!

He even asked if there were "others
I would like" to include
So I named off our gang
And he happily obliged

One of Scott's New Works

Testimony to Air Force Medic Leadership - Circa 1987

On the occasion of retirement from the Air Force Medical Service Corps (MSC)...

"Once an MSC, always
an MSC" - Charles W. Brown III,
Colonel, USAF, MSC, Retired

"Twenty years ago this Fall, Ben Buecker and I met while attending Air Force technical schools at Lowry Air Force Base. He was in Precision Maintenance Equipment Laboratory school and I was in Intelligence ("Air" or "Combat" plus Photogrammetry). We were both broke then, and searching for a future.

After Colorado, Ben had a tour in Africa then left the Air Force to attend Southwest Texas State University in San Marcos. He graduated Phi Beta Kappa with a degree in German.  From there, he studied law at UT Austin and then passed bar exams in Colorado and Texas. He was awarded a Fulbright Fellowship to study German/American comparative law for two years in Germany and has since been practicing law in San Antonio.

The Air Force has given me Ben and Cindy Buecker as friends and I am grateful they are here to join us tonight some 20 years later. I am proud of their friendship and very proud of my association with all of you here. I am still learning from you and I will miss that the most.

My time here, and Air Force career are complete and I want to pay tribute to some of those who have taught me so much through the years. As a way of doing this, I will say a little about what I have learned.

I remember a retirement parade in 1965, on the hot, hot ground at Cannon Air Force Base, New Mexico. My first boss, Technical Sergeant J.A. Clark was retiring. From one of the parade flights, and a position of attention, I glanced at him. There were tears in his eyes. For me, he epitomized NCO's who care about our country and it's people.

It's Lieutenant Colonel John P. Lench, USAF, MSC, Retired. "JP-4" he was called. For those of you who don't know, JP-4 is jet aircraft fuel and it described his fiery temperament to be sure. He was a Tactical Air Command hospital administrator.  I was a brand new MSC. He found fundamental disagreement with the TAC Surgeon General's office.  He wrote a flaming, JP-4-type letter to that effect and was cashiered for it. He taught me about strength of conviction.

It's Colonel Charles W. Brown III., USAF, MSC. Twice promoted below-the zone (top one percent). A genius at moving paper and softening resistance to change. A master of delegation, he could "bend arrows" like no other and challenge to you to perform at your total potential. He taught me about leadership.

It's Colonel Paul McNally, USAF, MSC, Retired. I worked for him at Fairchild Air Force Base near Spokane, Washington. He was a fountain of enthusiasm and creativity. An expert, sincere listener. A thoughtful provocateur. In his relentless search for new ways, he inspired people to perform beyond their own expectations. He taught me to be bold.

It's Doctor Colonel Robert McDonald, USAF, MC Retired (RIP).  A former Army bugler and corporal.  He was the Malmstrom Hospital Commander and I was his Administrator. He was a down-to-earth, grass roots man. He frowned on pretense and met sincerity with a gleaming twinkle in his eye. He brought out the best in me. He brought out the best in everyone. He taught me to believe in myself.

It's Doctor Ben Buecker, Lieutenant Colonel Norm Paulsen and captain Don Palen. I believe all of you who know them will agree they are largely sustained in life with humor.  I believe there is great humility and concern in laughter at ones self... and the human condition. All three have reinforced this belief. They taught me about this and I aspire to be the same.

Finally, it's Lieutenant Colonel Paul Warren Murrell, USAF, MSC.  A paragon of integrity. A seeker of balance and a true expert in finding it. With us, as we together worked in MSC career development and assignments, it was point, counterpoint. The "agree to disagree" that most helped us help them. It was the perennial look at things from both points of view and, no less important, the grey area in between. He taught me about representing people's best interests while keeping the mission foremost. He taught me about matching diverse personalities in a complex organization. He taught me about winning, and losing with grace, the latter being most difficult. He taught me about using humor to diffuse friction.

How do you develop character and with it, concern for people? Perhaps you're born with something...it's certainly not character...more likely spirit. As you pass through life, you confront people and you decide upon value. You see traits in others and you model yourself after those you admire. In the final analysis, if you're lucky, you've met people with character. If you are truly fortunate, the best part of each confrontation rubs off.

Years ago at some turning point in my life, my greatest hero, and wife Julieann presented me with a plaque bearing a quote from Albert Einstein. It said; "Try not to be a man of success, but rather, a man of value." This is the foundation of character I will take with me. It was given to me by Julieann, by all the bosses whose performance reports I've written here and by all of you.

They all carry a message...
To first be sincere in caring about people...
To believe in yourself...
To be of value.

(Footnote...I recently discovered this in a small file of old retirement papers and wanted to perhaps better preserve it by making it a blog entry. I have the original, hand typed on paper now yellowed by the years. The four pages have a good old government-style 45 degree staple in the upper left hand corner and a crinkly, tactile feel that is pleasant to hold. I did some light editing with this transcription but all the main points remain as they were. Looking back on the thirty years that followed, I am happy to report that, while it wasn't always easy to retain those leadership lessons, I did okay and was able to pass some of them on to others.) 

My PCP (Primary Care Physician) and Buckminster Fuller

I have good one. He is an Internist here and professor at UC Davis. I went to see him this morning to have my prescription for insanity, I mean rosacea, renewed. He chewed me out because he hasn’t seen me since January 2017. I was thinking; ‘What, are we dating?’ Early on he asked me; “How is your memory?” “Good!” Then later he asked me the same question again. I said; “Are you testing my memory? You already asked me that.”

Dr. Xin-Nong Li, FACP
Dear Physician

Anyway, blood pressure was good also (mine, not sure about his) and, heading for poker from his office, I recalled some early times when I gave blood in Denver for around $5 a pop. I was a lowly three-stripe airman going to AF Intelligence school (Leave that one alone okay Aught?) and was broke all the time. I was pretty exhausted too from a lot of late nights studying...Bar napkins mainly.

On my last donation there, the attending technician took my blood pressure and said it was too low. She told me to “walk around the block” and she would try again. So I did, and she did, and it was..."still too low."  She told me to "get some rest" and sent me packin'.

And then...and then...and then I stopped at a light and our new(er) ride shut down as my foot was on the brake. The automatic shut down feature is an interesting new technology designed to save fuel is what it is. It starts up again when you take your foot off the brake and move it to the accelerator. That event brought me out of my "PCP" reverie and my feeble brain slipped into another one.  

I thought of a quote I think from Buckminster Fuller that went something like this. "Imagine, the amount energy consumed by all vehicles in the world that are stopped at lights at any moment."  Food for thought eh?!  Imagine if all the vehicles on earth had this shut down feature - the reductions in energy consumption and air pollution alone!  I know, I know...take it a step further and imagine if all vehicles were electric.

R Buckminster Fuller
American architect, systems theorist,
author, designer, inventor and futurist

Note:  I Googled the real quote and I made a mistake.  But Fuller liked mistakes, a lot.  So here it is: 

"There are over 2 million cars standing in front of red lights with their engines going.  Then we have over 2 million times approximately 100 horsepower being generated as they are idling there, so that we have something like 200 million horses jumping up and down and going nowhere.  Now, we have to count that when we begin to get down to what is the efficiency of the economy."

...and he died in 1983 so you gotta' figure there are millions more out there with a hell of a lot more horsepower idling right now right?!  

P-P-P-Poker Face

The vast majority come to the tournament hold'em poker tables with inscrutable faces made of stone.  They bet then focus, unmoving and unblinking, at the center of the table...before and after the cards come.  They remain that way when the flop hits and, if they are still in the hand after, when the turn and river comes.  They can be mean looking when they go into freeze frame; Asian, Black, Latino and White...all of them.  Women and men, tattooed and bare, old and young.

Yet they have a common bond.  They all love to play, they understand there are rules to follow and all are generally considerate of one another.  Common actions; A gentle 'pat, pat' on the felt table to wish a fellow player good luck.  Veteran propensity to chop (split) the winnings, often when some have a considerable lead over others.  Most frequent phrases; "There is room here to move your chair if you want."  "Nice hand."  "Good luck," when opponents go all in with their remaining chips."  "There is room to share here," pointing to a side table that holds a player's refreshments.

And they all work on their poker faces.  For when a critical bet is made they don't want to give up a 'read' or 'tell' when an opponent is considering whether to call or fold.

Occasionally a player holding cards will freeze in 'staring at the middle' mode while the dealer and remaining players wait for them to bet or fold.  After a lengthy, pregnant pause, the player will say; "Oh, it's on me?" and everyone will laugh and think to themselves; 'Oh yeah, I have done that before.'

Between hands, it's sharing stories, most often of bad beats (when their strong hand is beaten by one stronger).  They laugh, joke, watch athletic events on televisions scattered throughout the poker room and greet pals old and new.

But when the cards hit the table......when the cards hit the table and a decision is made to play that hand it's time to have the poker face immediately available.  P-P-P-Poker face.  It's a fascinating nuance of the game.

The Perfect Muck

Folks, when you've played thousands of hands of tournament Texas Hold'em Poker certain things begin to come naturally.  Mucking is one of them. If you don't know already,  here's what "muck" in this form means:

Muck in gambling has multiple meanings. In poker, it most often refers to the pile of discarded cards into which players may throw their folded hands, and into which the dealer may place burned cards. It may also refer to the action of throwing a hand into the muck. - Wikipedia

When you bail out of a hand you can muck a ton of different ways. This ranges from simply sliding your cards unseen by others toward the center of the table and taking your hand off them to tossing them straight into the dealer's muck, again unseen. Judging from the Wikipedia definition, you could say you can "muck to the muck." I wouldn't suggest saying that in a live game though. Some players, the more burly among them, might counter with many forms of remarks...none complimentary.

This...is a "pig in muck."  Not the same thing
but a very close resemblance to the cards
that end up there.

But this is about The Perfect Muck. I am referring to a toss of the cards through the air on a direct, uninterrupted path to the stack of cards referred to as the "dealer's  muck" or stack of burned cards. In all modesty (not really), I must admit I have perfected such a move. Here, the cards are gently wedged against the inside of the thumb, the index and forefingers of one hand. Next, they are spun through the air, flat and unexposed, and land gently 'midst the dealer's muck.

But there is yet another, better muck out there folks.  I will call it the "Bruce Fling Flick Muck."  It involves pointing your two pocket cards at the dealer's muck and with an invisible 'flick' the cards fly through the air to their objective.  I have come across one, just one player whose name is (you guessed it) Bruce Fling.  Bruce fly's, or his cards do, solo among thousands...one who can make this move easily and naturally, every time.  It is an awesome thing to witness.  In fact, just today I was discussing this with an experienced dealer who agrees it's the best we have ever seen.

Now, I must also admit that I occasionally miss my version of The Perfect Muck and have what I call a "spasm." When this happens my cards fly in different directions, sometimes toward other players. Fortunately, I have learned to be very quick with apologies and have yet to suffer anything more than a little humiliation.

Thanks and...See you at the final table.

Time - Alliteration Litter & Remnants

First there's...
Time out!
Time's up!
Time zone.
Time table.
Time clock.
Time magazine.
Time marches on.
Time management.
Time is of the essence.

On the other hand...
All time.
No time.

Time remnants: Grandpa and Grandma
Campbell or Gladue's
pocket watch and "Awl For All." 

It's time.
Big time.
Old time.
Lap time.
Nap time.
Any time.
Half time.
Real time.
Bed Time.
Hard time.
Over time.
Party time.
Early time.
Exact time.
Prime time.
Break time.
About time.
Waste time.
World time.
Father time.
Test of time.
Crunch time.
Current time.
Quarter time.
Estimated time.
Appointment time.
Howdy Doody time!
Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner time.

Or opposites...
First and Last time.
Start and End time.
Good and Bad time.
Day and Night time.
Best and Worst time.

Moron Poker - The Nuances

Okay, okay...actually it's not "moron poker" at all. That's just click bait. It should read "more on poker" but that wouldn't entice clickers would it?!

On a good day...
you can hardly see past your chip stack.

It's the game folks. It's the beautiful tournament Texas Hold'em poker game with an infinite mix of players, dealers, tournament directors and many other folks. They all occupy the gambling stage in several acts with many props and every scene is filled with nuances. Together, the people, casino, tables, cards, chips, food and a certain infamous Lady make the complete package.

The players are a wonder to me, a modern day example of how diverse cultures and nationalities could and should work together in the world today.  In general, they are intelligent, hard-working folks who take relaxation in studying and playing the game.  They are bound by a common set of rules that are observed by dealers and enforced by tournament directors.  The players are all in competition but they know the rules and they generally have respect for one another. I have been a fairly avid tournament student for around ten years now and I am still impressed with how everyone gets along...99.9% of the time.

(Exception: yesterday, yes just yesterday I witnessed another player so upset about losing a hand and the ensuing joking he seriously threatened another player with "...see you outside." I quietly went to the Tournament Director and mentioned it along with an observation that I had seen nothing like it in ten years of tournament poker. I just asked them to keep an eye on the player.  The Director actually called their security chief and the chief soon called the offending player aside for a quiet talk. The player returned, there were no further displays and shortly thereafter he was knocked out of the tournament. Later I told the Director I thought she really handled that well.) 

Dealers are typically thoughtful; cautioning experienced players who occasionally mess up and coaching often anxious new players on rules. They are in a constant state of shepherding their flock of 9 or so players while the cards and chips are flying everywhere.  Game time is busy time for dealers and most of them seem to enjoy themselves. They have some genuinely fine smiles and keen senses of humor in common. And they can deal...really well.

Tournament directors function as game experts and Supreme Court Justices of the game, listening to dealers describe elements of a violation or controversial move when they occur, quickly making a decision and keeping the game moving. They also maintain the tournament clock, chip stacks, player seating and basically anything that needs to be done to keep a tournament moving along.  Did I mention security? Oh yeah, that too.

And then, of course there is the ever mystical, fickle, glorious, often uplifting, often ass-kicking Lady Luck. Let's not forget her as she is nipping at your heels every step of the way. She first enters the scene with your simple seat draw. You line up at the cashier's cage, pay your entry fee and are randomly assigned a seat. That seat alone will make or break your day. The cards that land in your seat position will be hot or cold in all possible percentages and will most often vary throughout your poker day.

The patience you use in coping with the seat variance Lady Luck dishes out will be a huge factor in whether you end up at the final table and among other players who cash in the tournament. If you draw an early hot seat, your challenge will be to avoid tilting away your chips by later making careless bets. If you draw an early cold seat, the challenge will be to avoid punting your  remaining short stack of chips, hoping to suck out a win by entering hands where you know you are most likely behind.

Finally, there are the nuances you experience as the game progresses. The chips in front of you must be managed, placed as wagers, shuffled or handled as you await the tale of the cards. Raking and stacking a winning pot is pretty great too! Your cards must be examined and reexamined carefully as the game progresses and you contemplate your next move. You must study the play of your opponents. You must keep track, but not too closely, of distractions around you; table talk, television screens, cell phones, drinks, snacks. And of course, you must win...just often enough to keep you in the game as a matter of finances and interest.

So no folks. It is far from "moron poker." If you are a dedicated tournament player, it is always; "Teach me more on poker." I want to learn, I want to be patient and I want the Lady to visit me regularly. Hell, I'd even suck up if I could track her down.

See you at the final table.

Hill Climb - Riders of the Purple Sage II

Set up a couple hundred feet from bottom
Rev it, pop clutch and run through gears

The Thumper roars

Devil's Hole, Idaho 1976
L-R: Tom Campbell, Jack Ohl,
Charlie Brown III, Jerry "Leadbelly" Salsberry

The vibrations course through your entire body
Take it to the highest speed you feel fairly safe with
Hit the bottom and start climbing that hill

Incline causes loss of momentum
Lose traction
Front end gets lighter
Downshifting to increase torque
Run out of gears short of top

Front wheel bounces high
Bail out, bail out!
Get away from falling metal
Bike lays on hillside

Lift it, heavy
Dead weight
Hand holding brake
Position it pointed downhill

Release brake
Run alongside
Hop on
Pop the clutch
Thumper comes to life

Ride and slide to the bottom
To try again


(For Jack, CB III and Leadbelly - see Riders of the Purple Sage I)

Squirrel Nuts

The following is the absolute truth I swear

I was at the golf course this afternoon

Polishing my single digit handicap a little

(Alright I have lied already

But this is the last time honest!)

I was sitting at a picnic table

Outside the clubhouse

Enjoying a healthy sandwich

(Okay it was a hot dog with everything.)

And I couldn’t help but notice

There were at least a dozen squirrels

Within fifty feet of me

They were all playing Squirrel Nuts

Some were looking

Some were burying

Some were digging up

Some were eating

I don’t know

I was thinking they were all a little confused

"Acting squirrelly" you might say

It made me think of our 535+1

Maybe they are all playing Squirrel Nuts too

Don’t forget though

It’s all our fault

We put those particular squirrels there

Geezer - The Transition

No, this isn't me.
But it is close.

Unlike factual events including birthdays and anniversaries, I don't think there is an actual moment a person officially becomes a "geezer."  It's more an evolving state of  appearance and perhaps your own state of mind, "Damn, I'm getting old." Or others, "Wow, look at that old geezer!"

I would like to point out here that Geezer is yet another male-dominated class... the dictionary simply defines it as "old man."  So, sorry ladies, we own this one.  You don't want a piece of this anyway.

Perhaps it is part of the progression from the old monikers, "Squeeze" (young person) to "Wrinkle" (old person) although I am pretty sure many of us achieve Wrinkle status well before Geezer status.

In addition to a progression of wrinkles, there seem to be many characteristics that distinguish a person as a Geezer.  I can think of a few and I had better list them here before I forget them... short-term memory loss being, of course, a key sign of geezerness.  Here are my top ten, in no particular order:

1. I just mentioned short-term memory loss. Or did I?  When a person is young this characteristic is most often thought of as absent-mindedness and it can often be brought on by "information overload." (Yeah, better Google that.  Check out author Alvin Toffler's "Future Shock" while you're at it.)  When you get old it's different.  For a Geezer, it just happens... no excuses.  Plus, if you didn't hear it, how could you get it let alone remember it?!

2. Infirmities: My observation, likely practiced by millions of others before me; as we grow old and greet our peers we increasingly tend to discuss our infirmities before, if ever, moving on to other topics.

I first observed this tendency just as I was entering the world of geezers, somewhere in my early 60's.  Geezer conversations are not for the faint of heart - or conversely, perhaps they are only for the faint of heart!

3. Pills: Wasn't taking many at all really when old age started creeping up on me.  At first that is.  Then, I gradually kept adding to my morning regimen until I adopted the "load up a plastic compartmentalized container marked Sunday through Saturday" technique to save time in preparing a handful or so.  Next, some evening pills quickly became candidates for similar advance packing.  Now, I use two blue containers for night pills and two of different colors for day pills so I can set aside two weeks' worth at a time.

The worrisome thing about the container technique occurs when you get down to that last day. You then realize two more weeks have gone by and you will not get them back.  But you buck up and press on, loading them puppies up for another round. Outwardly you remain undaunted for this exercise but inwardly... WTactualF?!

4. Wrinkles: Previously mentioned.  No need for further discussion.

5. Walking:  Hey, it's just putting one foot in front of the other right?!  But then, why does this suddenly become less predictable?  Is there such a thing as short-term memory loss for muscles?

6. Sleeping:  Let's face it Geezer... when your head hits that pillow it's anybody's guess.  You don't know if you are going to sleep or not and if you do, whether you will sleep for ten hours or two.

7. Exercise:  Well Geezers can do it just as often - but more restful (in)activities are much more appealing right?!

8. Thinking:  Seriously, I love this one.  As a Geezer, I get to look out the window and think of moments in life when I was a vibrant Squeeze... loving, learning, running, chasing, taking in every last possible moment.  Call it sentimentality if you like.  Calling it "gushing sentimentality" is even better.

9. Dying:  Yes it's gotta' be on the list right?  Geezer relatives and pals are dying off and you miss them.  Each one also reminds you of your own mortality.  In these modern times... you have a growing number of Facebook friends who still have pages yet have passed.

10. Gratitude:  Yup, no list of qualifications would be complete without this one.  You have to be eternally grateful to your God or to your circumstance, whichever you prefer,  to have lived long enough to gain Geezer status.  Yet there will be no medals no sir... just an increasing dose of respect from folks you don't even know.  As a bonus for (you know who you are) young'uns who used to be called "wise ass." you now get to be regarded as somewhat of a "sage"... if you're lucky that is.

Geezer Remedies: diet, exercise, stretching... repeat ad nauseam.

Above all, don't forget to look back and embrace those remarkable people you have met and loved.  Don't forget to look back on your greatest experiences and relive them in your mind as best you can.  Hell, go ahead and embellish them if you want, no one will mind.  If you need a little inspiration, pull up your most loved tunes on YouTube or Spotify, turn up the volume a little and let those puppies wash over you. Then, go ahead and take a well deserved nap.