by Jack R. Pyle

The world has passed me by.

Sometimes we are slow to recognize in ourselves what is readily apparent in others.  I had such a realization recently and it still rocks me just to think about it.

I have grown older, not just in years, but in experience.  I am, perhaps, more than ripe on the vine.  I am no longer hip, hep or even really alive.  I’m dated, I’m past tense, I’m a fogey.

It is terrible to realize that you are standing alone, not only away from the crowd, but more than a little way behind it, trailing in the dust, a tragic figure whose rope must be nearing the end.

I have no issues.

Think about that.  No issues!

Unfortunately, I live in a world of today where everyone has issues, lots of issues, but I have none.  I don’t have an issue with anybody; I don’t have any physical issues; I don’t have any moral or religious issues.  I’m no longer relevant, no longer of today.  I’m a mess.

What I have is from a bygone day.  I have problems, I have worries, I have fears, I have regrets, I have pain, I have diseases and maladies, and I have many more that will go unlisted, but I have no issues.

I am sure issues are easier to bear than pain and fear and worries.

Why can’t I be like the young folks I know who have issues all the time, but who never, never have any of the more mundane and difficult-to-deal-with problems, pains and fears that creep unwanted into my life.

Oh, to be young again and to have issues.