An English In Kentucky



















May 29th 2009

    I have one ear that is good and one ear that is bad.  The good ear hears well, the bad ear does not.  These past few days my good ear has experienced some sort of blockage.  From it I get a sense that I am swimming underwater.  The other ear, formerly the bad ear, is now asserting itself by reminding me how often I have cursed it.

    Heading into town this morning, the quiet was so peaceful, I forgot for a moment that my good ear was underwater.  I was not in the least perturbed by a jack hammer this side of the post office that may or may not have found the water main problem.  I smiled blissfully at the bad tempered postal person as yet one more detail of postcode etiquette was explained to me.  Best of all the young people were less irritating.


    I understand I am an old fart.  Often I have concluded that old farted-ness is a bad tempered, irritable, stubbornness that follows either age or isolation.  And often I have been concerned that primarily the cause of this ague is age.  Which would mean essentially that I became old very early in life. 

    This morning's experience of chores provides a third consideration in the contemplation of old farted-ness.  To age and isolation I must add level of hearing.

    Could be my bad ear has been right all these years.  

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