So what do you do?
The bank is full, regardless of how many ex-spouses that need to be paid, regardless of how many progenies are on the loose.
There is, of course, always the potential that things could go pear-shaped.
Perhaps a Bernie Madoff-type makes off with a sizeable chunk of doubloons. Perhaps there is an ever-increasing compulsion that results in an ever-decreasing amount hidden under the bed.
Things that could cause a need for more money.
What do you do?
Much of your life has been spent somewhere.
Sometimes you don’t even know where is there. Someone needs to tell you. Or at least remind you.
Things have gotten to the point where it is a different room and when you get up at night you’re not twigged to where in the suite the bathroom is located.
But that’s the life. And you remember when it was something where you were in a caravan and simply had to use the nearest tree or wall.
At one point it got old. Tired. Really old. And then you were young.
But like the sound barrier, you broke through and now you are on the other side.
Always on the other side.
At this point there is no going back.
And you ask yourself what exactly it might be that you’d be going back to.
All of that is something that seems to have happened so long ago that it doesn’t even feel as though it happened to you.
You know what you do.
You know how to do it.
You actually don’t even need to think about it. It is muscle memory.
But the muscles are now not what they were. Once they used to hurt when you made a particular move. A strain. A pull. But some ice and stretching and things were back to what they were.
Now they are sore. Not a throbbing tenderness. Something, though, that is like a chip on a tooth that your tongue won’t stray from. Always there. Always different. Always uncomfortable.
Something like when you eat too late, which was once too early. A shift that results in the edge of an ache or an upset.
And there is the concern that there is something off in the inner ear, perhaps, something that is causing a bit of imbalance. Not much. Just a touch. But enough so that there is a tendency to be more reticent in movement than had been the case.
And when you think of your ear you try not to think of how you’ve been having a tough time with hearing consonant sounds during conversations. Not all the time. Enough, though, where it is has gotten to the point where you don’t want to ask someone to repeat what they just said, so you nod, as that seems to cover most situations adequately.
And when you saw that ophthalmologist she used a term, nyctalopia, you think. All you know is that when you go from downstage to off there is a period of time when it is tough to focus and you are thankful for the guys with the Maglites, though you never mention it.
You don’t think about it. You just do it as you’ve always done it.
Still: What do you do?
You know you could stop.
You know that many of your mates have. Some of them because there is no alternative. Really no alternative.
But you can’t. Some tell you you won’t. But you don’t.
You continue. You just do.
There are days that you don’t want to. There are days when the time between performances is such that you think that maybe it is fine. Maybe you’re done with it. Maybe the last time was the last time.
But it isn’t.
Because when you are there, not even in the middle of the night, lying there, wondering how it has only been two hours since you dropped off and you can’t fall back asleep, you think about it.
What do you do?
The question scares the hell out of you.
So you go on.
The Rolling Stones have announced the rescheduled dates for their 2020 US tour, which will now go ahead this fall. A few dates were unable to be rescheduled, and a few new dates were added. The cheapest nosebleed seats in Detroit are currently selling for $132.75 before fees.