As you get older things you thought as pet peeves can take on a different form.  Sometimes your age allows the pet peeve to go away (like walking behind old people) or you can have fun  with it (like when someone asks how you are doing and they don’t care and you say, “I’m very horny”)  The look on their faces is memorable.

There are some pet peeves that withstand time

1.  People who block doorways.  Here in Cuenca they block sidewalks.  I was in a market today and a woman managed to block the entire aisle with her cart.  Even the guy stocking the shelves isn’t that good. She had it on an angle and I figured she had to move stuff off the shelf to get that perfect wedge.  When she saw me coming down the aisle she looked at her cart, then me, then did nothing.
2. People who have a popular opinion and tell everybody about it.  These people tend to be know it alls.  I heard a woman telling a captive audience (trapped in a restaurant) how disgusting the people in the US are because they have no clue who they elect.  If she had stopped there, at stupid, she could have saved face.  But no, she then said,”I don’t think you should vote for or against someone because of skin color.”  Last call. “I’m voting for Hillary only because she’s a woman and we need a woman now.”  Ah you might think I found her the pet peeve.  Wrong, the trapped table of women all agreed.
3. I have a pet peeve with people who spout illogic.  The person who sees that A. doesn’t work so therefore B (the opinion they hold) does by default.  Or the person who takes a well known scientific fact and uses it incorrectly.  Or the person who doesn’t like something but uses the something they don’t like to defend their belief. Or a conspiracy theory that sounds good but avoids Occam’s Razor (look it up, this ain’t high school)  Better yet the person who doesn’t know Occam’s Razor and doesn’t look it up.

I feel better now.  But I could continue with examples but I fear my blood pressure will get too low with all the cathartic release.  Like the time I lost 60, SIXTY, FaceBook friends with a funny post.

I LOVE EVERYBODY. EXCEPT YOU.  YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. DOUCHEBAG.

Some people unfriended me because “of your language.”  The rest were paranoid.

Go see if you unfriended me.  I’ll wait right here.  db.

“

I am assuming this means what will your life be like seven years from now.

I have trouble with seven minutes (will still be writing this)  seven hours (will be writing my nanowrimo book) seven days (basically the same) seven years.

I find myself living more in the present because I don’t have a clear view of the future.  I am a strong believer in the neuropsychology of the human brain to look ahead — the future, if you will.  I have a view of what I would like to accomplish but I am a male who feels a responsibility towards others.

By that I mean I have two older sisters who may need my help and assistance with advancing years.  I have three kids who will call for help should things go South.  I have a coyote dog who will be needing my care about that time.

But my goals are simple.  Although the question was your life in seven years, I know these must be goals because at my experience I know options.  If my health holds out I will write several books.  Actually already wrote them but will revise and market.  I believe my books will have a cult following.  I plan on leaving the rights to my daughter should I pass.  Let her and my grandchildren have something to say about me.  Apparently after you die people acknowledge your contributions.

I plan to find a relationship.  I have had two wonderful wives and would like a relationship that would rival my past.  Funny, but what I want has changed as have I.  I have to figure my way around the independent female who hates men.  I know she is out there.

I want to develop stronger bonds of friendships.  I am struggling with this issue as I have my entire life.  Being a fifth wheel does not help.  But I find that the open door policy does not exist when everyone is hanging on.  Soon there might not b any door.

I will write everyday for the next seven years.  I wish I could find that magic person who can bounce ideas that overwhelm me.  I have come to accept several things.  People talk a lot about what they know very little of.  People, in general, commit logical fallacies with blatant disregard to the real world.  Thirdly, people do not read good literature.

I know one person who reads and researches material.  His thinking, like mine, leans to the right.  I believe he sees things because he researches and gets to the root of the issues.  I want those kinds of friends.  I might add that he accepts your opinion even if different than his.

I have a friend who dislikes science and statistics.  But she always uses science ans statistics to validate her claims that  science and statistics are not good (logical fallacy).  She is the nicest person I know and gives me fodder for so many fictional characters.  The reason I mention this person is fo show that I listen, I see, I hear but I also use critical thinking.

With over thirty years of psychological testing, I have found questions that give me a good read on a personality.  I want you, the reader, to suspend your belief but not in reading the news.

So in seven years this is what my goals are minus the unforeseen.

I am retired without a car or license in a city that relies on buses.  Each bus trip is a chiropractic treatment.  The drivers are not trained, the buses are poorly maintained but for 12.5 cents I absorb it like an adventure.

Because I am tall the people look at me like they never saw a tall white guy.  I just pretend they think I am a movie star they recognize.

But I do remember the driving to and from work in Bica Raton, Florida.  The hours I listened to the radio seem a waste of time.  I remember once after adopting three kids driving and having a near seizure thinking I left the kids somewhere.  That theme still comes about.

Sometimes the bus does not stop because I think the drivers get paid by the route.  So the downshifting is annoying to them.  Sometimes the buses are full.  I am top heavy and would fall over on an empty bus but in these sardine like condition it is a massage.

All in all I like the bus.  Cheap, effective and adventurous.  When I get where I am headed I am surprised that I maneuvered my way there.

Life is different when retired.

None spring to mind because it’s seldom a word or phrase that is funny.  It is the situation, tone and timing.

I have a friend who says WTF? The tone, timing and look on her face brings a laugh.

Okay if pressed.  I play cards with way left liberal Democrats.  Already the scene is set.  These guys have thick skins and can take it and give it.  It is always fun to have straight men actually believe their lines.  But one guy says, “Hillary says…”  and I start laughing.  I ‘m not sure if he does that on purpose or actually feels that way, but you know the remainder of his thought will challenge your sanity.

Then we repeat it back and with the appropriate tone we all start laughing.  I’m talking belly sore laughing.

There are certain people who say certain phrases that signal a funny to come or alert you to a form of illogic that would make the Pope laugh.  I sit in amazement at a friend who I know can’t believe what she just heard.  Because of her diplomacy she holds in the laugh, the facial grimace and the eye roll, not to mention the head slap.  That is funny.  Unfortunately the person talking thinks I am enjoying the conversation and adds more to my friend’s rising blood pressure.  That whole scene is funny.

My dad and my paramedic partner used to laugh when I entered the room.  When I said, “What?” they laughed more.  My humor is an acquired taste and believe me I know it.  I work at being funny and making people laugh.

You can get to the core of a problem when the person is laughing.  It is a great technique to open emotional doors.

I am single but have the best relationship one could have with a dog.  He does not enter my bedroom but he and I have much in common.  He is a rescue dog frpm the streets.  He has a mix of boxer and coyote.  He seldom barks.  He does not listen despite training.  Actually he does not possess skills of obedience but on the street he is fine.

Do I enjoy being single?   Yes for the most part.  Would I like a relationship? Yes.

So why don’t I get one?  The answer revolves around a stage of life.  You come into the world hopefully into a family that wants you.  It seems just that you would leave the same way.  Well I don’t have that.

I have always believed that, even going to Catholic school, that you just die.  The time in between is a psychological reinforcement schedule.  You are wanted because of something you have or do.  Sorry but it is true.

A woman who lived from her beauty may find that old age took away her passport.  Illness and overindulged eating also come to haunt some.

What I had was money and a work ethic.  Once I lost the money (don’t ask) nobody received a psychological reward.  All the good deeds mean nothing unless funded.  Maybe you can offer work or service a relastionship.  That has limits.

So then you meet women who are independent and angry.  If they remain married they can have security.  If they find themselves single they struggle.  So do the men, probably more so because of how men are raised.

Relationships are available where I live but they do not have the parameters of what I want.  I have two deceased wives.  I try not to think of them because the memories make me cry.  Not sure if I cry because I miss them, because they did not get to reach their goals or because I need them.

My daughter posted a Halloween picture of herself dressed as a pumpkin.  I remember that day and it was a happy time.  A happy memory should not bring on tears, only those who have my view will understand.  The remainder hope that they do not have the loneliness I feel

There are worse things than being lonely.  One is a bad relationship or the lies you tell yourself to remain in one.

Being single has given me the time and opportunity to find myself.  I see others who behave and think the same way as when they were younger.  I judge, but with little sharing.  For example, I met a single woman yesterday who had no clue that her talking annoyed others.  (eye rolling, iude glances from others) When single you need to understand your mark on others.  An older married man cared less and said how he felt.  I wish I could do that.  But the tension between he and his wife was something I feel good about not having to deal with.

So after putting all these thoughts down I get to ponder them.  I will not get involved with someone unless I have a value in their life and I can wake up every morning wanting to make their life more enjoyable.  Sounds trite but let me tell you it really is easier than we make it.