Waiting For The Wind To Pick Up

It is a trip to say the least and to say the least, it is a trip to turn around and realize that yes, age took place, time has passed, and years have gone by in a flash.Wow . . .I will be 54 next month. This is life and again, I repeat the C’est la vie, this is life or such is life and such is age, and time, and such are the realizations which take place when we are old enough to look back. Here I am, sitting in a waiting room to have my blood drawn.I do not like doctors . . .I am too young to be this old. Or so I think.But I am too old to think that I will be young forever. I admit this is a nervous feeling because regardless of my outward appearance and despite the coverage of tattoos across my upper body, I am afraid of needles. I am still petrified of doctors and doctor visits, same as I was as a little boy.I knew that the needle was coming for me. I knew why I was there and I knew that it was only a matter of time before the needle came out. I used to run from the doctor and the…