Getting Old and Things Change

You know, I feel like i'm 27. I'm young, handsome, long-haired. I've got three or four ounces of good pot in the drawer and four or five Thai Sticks I can smoke. A girl I know is going to come over with nothing under her raincoat and she is going to make love with me. We're gonna laugh a lot and I'm not going to know how to say it, but in my heart I'll be screaming: Thank you for coming here to me and treating me like I"m special. WOW!
Only now I'm 60 and living in Texas. And even if I feel like I'm 27 that's not the case. I'm still strong but my hair is grey. My beard is old-man white, and WARNING!!!!!, the hair on my balls is white too, so I shave it so nobody can see.
But you know what? Nobody wants to see. Nobody is interested. Damn.
Maybe if I still had that pot....
Or maybe if I was still 27 and a young buck.
But I'm not.
Now I'm not religious, but I am pretty spiritual.
I was raised Catholic and was an alter boy and helped serve food and keep company with shut-ins for a long time ago as part of being an alter boy. ASIDE: All you Christians are Failed Catholics, in case you don't know it. I'm not talking about you nice people, I'm talking about all the Republican candidates for president. Failed Catholics That's what Mormons, Baptists, Presbyterians, Lutherans, and all the other churches are---so there!
Lapsed would be a generous exaggeration for me. It's been 50 years.
That doesn't mean I'm not spiritual, like any other failed Catholic.
So yes, I pray. I know I'm not at the top of the food chain by a long shot.
But when I was a kid, I prayed not to get caught with 5 kilos of pot or an ounce of cocaine. I prayed to get laid. I prayed for a really good kiss or inspiration for a play I was writing.
Know what I pray for these days? To wake up in the morning.
Simple as that.
I love waking up in the morning and know that one day I won't. So I pray that tomorrow morning is not the day I don't wake up. I pray that tomorrow I wake up and fight the inequities of the world again. I love the fight. I wish I could win. I won't. Maybe I'll inspire two or three others to take up or continue the fight.
But I definitely pray that I'll wake up in the morning. With enough strength to fight the good fight again. To see my Madeleina. To hug Italo and Marco. To laugh with Sierra and Alexa, Chepa's daughters, and to hold my grandbaby Taylor close for just a minute.
So now that I'm getting older, my prayers are for different things.
I hope I keep getting what I pray for.
And I hope you all get what it is you need too.