I was just reading this article that said: “One in three Americans haven’t been to a dentist in a year.” Which reminded me, I once went 35 years without seeing a dentist. 1975 to 2010. And yet, at age 57, my teeth are still in pretty good shape. Aside from two of my back teeth that I lost amidst a crystal meth tooth-grinding binge (they don’t call it “meth mouth” for nothing). But those back teeth aren’t all that essential, so who cares. This life makes no sense. Some times you can break all the rules, defy all the conventional wisdom, and get away with. And then other times, ONE slip up and you’re fucked.
Statistically, I probably should have been dead 10 years ago considering all the demographics I’ve been in. Drugs, alcohol, smoking, homeless. I’m living on borrowed time. I figure one morning I’ll wake up and all my organs will just spontaneously explode at once.
But you never know. There’s often no rhyme or reason to this stuff. Does God just have a weird sense of humor? Or is life basically just absurd? For example, there’s the guy who founded the Power Bar health food supplement. A Berkeley guy and a physical fitness freak. Dies of a heart attack while jogging at age 51 . . . Meanwhile, Charles Bukowski spends a lifetime pounding rot-gut and getting into barroom brawls and lives to 76. Go figger. The gods are crazy.
I have a theory that some of those physical fitness freaks bully their bodies too much. Like a wife that’s always nagging at their husband. They pester their bodies with harsh discipline to the point where their bodies get sick of it and collapse. I’m not advocating compulsive hedonism, either. Which is just the other dangerous extreme. but you got to learn to befriend your body. It’s your constant companion after all. Ease it into a bubble-bath or something like that every now and then.
I swear, I have theories on just about every thing.