The truth of the old saying – if you haven’t got your health, you haven’t got anything – becomes more apparent with each passing year. In my youth I was always surprised by people who reached an age when they decided they were done with living. I could never understand why someone would not want to live forever. Well, now I understand. If I could live forever at the age of thirty, it might be pretty sweet. At the age of ninety, not so much. At my current age of sixty I can see the handwriting on the wall in big, bold letters.

In addition to the old knees giving up the ghost, now my digestion is going to hell. What the heck is up with that? Last night I released so much gas that it alone probably raised the temperature of the earth by a degree or two. I’ll be walking through the office and suddenly the relief valve will let go and I’ll have to make some kind of noise to try to cover up the fact that I can no longer control my farts. Not that I am fooling anyone with a coverup, but I have to do something. When I get to the point where I don’t care where or when I fart, shoot me.

My digestive problems seem to have come on rather quickly. Within a couple of months I have found that there are things that I can no longer digest like I once could. I think that fats are giving me the most trouble and, playing doctor, I am guessing that my gall bladder is giving up the ghost just to keep my knees company. I hope it is nothing more serious than that, but one never knows.

Looking up causes for gall bladder trouble, it says that one of the factors is stress. Stress? What? Me worry? Ya think? Christ, I’m under so much stress sometimes I wonder how I am managing to keep any semblance of sanity. If stress can affect my gall bladder, then the only question is why it has taken so long to do so. I guess it all must be cumulative.

Yeah, I sound just like an old fart complaining about his health, but that’s only because I am. I sure hope this situation can change soon, though, because checkout time is starting to sound better and better, and I really think I’m just a little too young to be wishing for that. Of course, wishes or not, shit happens. Just let me have a little peace before it does.

It looks like Chicago has a new mayor – Rahm Emanuel. I have never wanted to live in Chicago and now I have one more reason not to. It is amazing to me how he could step into the race as the front runner from outside Chicago politics and keep that lead the whole time. It really illustrates how shallow the pool of political talent is in Chicago.

Then again, the challengers didn’t really represent the strongest of possible candidates. Carol Moseley Braun? Give me a break. The real power brokers in Chicago are the aldermen. Several of the aldermen would have made stronger candidates for mayor than most of the field, but why screw up a good thing? The mayor is a powerful position but winning is not guaranteed, so why risk losing your aldermanic seat? And why risk having the competition dredge up all the shit you have done over your time in office?

Chicago got what it deserves. Unfortunately, Chicago does not live in isolation from the rest of the state of Illinois. Chicago is a suck-hole sitting on the back of the state and state government is poisoned by the politics of Chicago. If you live in Illinois, there is no getting away from that fact. Pretty soon it will become time to get away from Illinois altogether.

It was one of those increasingly rare days where I felt like I actually got something done. There were no huge efforts. I replaced the door closer on the screen door and added a door stop chain so the wind won’t rip the closer out of the door jam. The repair guy came and fixed the limit switch on the furnace that was keeping the fan running constantly. Later I replaced my standard thermostat with a programmable thermostat, programmed it, and have it up and running. Not big things, but things done.

Why even mention it? Because for some time now one day has been the same as another, and none of my days end with any sense of happiness or satisfaction. It’s just a matter of getting through the days. To what end, I don’t know . . . to my own end, I guess. So when a day rises even a little bit above that mediocre mean, it deserves mention.