Life With A Werewolf

What Cane Do You Want When Your Old

         Crash's recent injury has both of us thinking about the future. Neither one of us really is getting any younger. Since it has been impossible to age in reverse, we've both come to the conclusion that we're going to age with dignity and grace giving each new milestone the quiet suffering elegance and prestige each one deserves.

         "Yeah, right," Crash said, rolling his eyes. "I'm going into the grave screaming like a banshee fighting the whole damn way. I'm going to live till I'm a thousand." He was seated in the kitchen at the end of a long day at the office. A glass was in his hand that appeared to be rum and coke, though I'm not sure just how much rum was in it. Smelled like a lot from my seat across the table. His arm was still in the sling, though the chunk was no longer missing out of it. In a day or two he'd be back to working nights, doing whatever it is that he does.

         "Do, you? I mean....can you live that long?" I asked, unsure. Sometimes these things happen in our conversations.

         "Yeah," he said smiling, "and we sleep in coffins during the day and drink the blood of the innocent at night when you sleep!"

         "Very funny," I grumbled rolling my eyes.

         He chuckled a bit, leaning back in his chair, then took another sip. "Nah, we don't. We usually live as long as you regular humans do. We hardly age until just about the end when everything falls apart at once."

         I rubbed my hip a bit at the thought of falling apart. There was heavy moisture in the air, due to the recent rains, which was starting to play hell on my joints. Some days I wasn't sure how old I was. I felt closer to eighty than forty. "I'm gonna need a cane soon." I grumbled.

         "I got one in the closet you can use," Crash nodded his head back down the hallway.

         "Hell no," I growled. "I'm going to get me a sword cane."

         This perplexed Crash at first. I'm not going to go into the extended conversation, but he seemed puzzled then pleased with the idea. I'll get myself a sword cane, one with a glass skull on the end of it, and blood red jewels for the eye sockets. I'm going back and forth on whether to make it a human skull or a canine's. I want to have black trousers and a black belt to wear with it, and maybe a coat and a fedora or a pork pie hat. I'll have sun glasses I wear just about everywhere I go when I do.

         Why? Well, because like Crash said I'm going into the grave screaming like a banshee and fighting the whole entire way. Just because you're getting old doesn't mean you're getting dead. I've always hated the philosophy that some have when it comes to that. "From the moment you're born, you begin to die" they say trying to drag you down mentally and emotionally into their own dark negative space.
From the moment you're born you begin to get older. That isn't some new age philosophy, or some crazy new religious movement talking, that's just life. The time you choose to start giving in, to start letting others decide for you what is cool and what is not, what is acceptable and what is not, what you like and what you shouldn't, THAT'S the moment you begin to die.

         Death isn't something that's experienced by everyone in the same way. Some people die in their heart, mind and soul almost right out of middle school. They decide they'd rather be accepted by a group than to think for themselves on what they like or don't, what is acceptable and what is not. And when you'd rather be accepted by a group rather than make your own decisions, that's when it begins.

         Dying isn't something that's embraced by me, but merely accepted. It's a fact of life. Everyone: service members, police, fire fighters, etc, everyone who has that dangerous type of occupation sooner or later accepts that they could die. They do the things they can to prevent it, but any day could honestly be their last. It's why they sometimes laugh the loudest, have the most twisted jokes, do the crazier things. Cause tomorrow could literally be their last day, so why worry about it?

         When you die in your mind, heart and soul, the body isn't that far behind. That goes double for when you get older. Others deciding for you that certain music isn't good. That certain movies should be rejected, because THEY didn't like it, so now you have to hate it too. Why? Am I not allowed now to like older style music and newer stuff simply because someone said I'm not supposed to? When the hell did I sign up for that?

         Life is about living. It's not about dying, or about making a stand or a statement. I'm not out protesting others, or trying to over throw anything. I'm not fighting political battles for some fat politician to get elected and grow fatter and richer off the blood I spill.
I'm making my choices, living life the way I see fit. If I want to dress like a villainous reject from an anime, then damn it, I will. If I want to see a Metallica concert one day, then a Black Pistol Fire concert the next, then damn it I will. If I want to watch foreign action films or sappy romantic comedies back to back, then damn it, I will.

         Cause I'm living my life. Other's can't live it for me. Or as Crash put it that night before he decided to call it a day, "If I can't choose the way I die, I might as well choose the way I live."