' I Feel Proper Poorly.'

Ever sat in front of your computer and thought, 'What the hell do I write about this week?' Never, I don't believe you! This weeks been one of those weeks then Reg Dixon came to the rescue. Reg Dixon was a comedian, born in Coventry and popular on the 'wireless' in the 1950's

So what brought this doom and gloom scenario to mind.

I reckon it was last week's near miss that set me going. Fate, destiny, call it what you will there's no doubt life has an inevitability about it, whether we like it or not. We live and we die, a certainty common to us all. If, only if, we are at some stage in our lives in perfect health, sooner or later our mortality will be all too apparent. For if it were not so, obviously we would live for ever, for there would not be anything to 'kill us off', so to speak. 'Three score years and ten' is the Biblical suggestion of a life span. So I reckon I'm on borrowed time. Now we have many 'funny turns' in our lives. (Come to think of it, Reg Dixon was 'a funny turn'. Only just, mind!) We, at least some of us, break bones frequently, suffer from flu, hay fever, or become anxious or depressed. All nuisance value conditions designed to irritate but nothing more. I'm a very arthritic seventy year old but it won't kill me. (Unless I'm too slow crossing the road and a bus gets me.)

Amongst my friends and acquaintances there are many more serious conditions that suggest few of us are perfect specimens. Autism, Bio Polar, Aspergers Disease; Coeliacs, Nystagmus, Diabetes, Lupus. The list is endless but you get the message. I'm very ordinary, nothing special, yet have experienced over seventy years, pyloric stenosis when only days old, serious septicemia, a life threatening ulcer, two TGA's and skin cancer. And these are the one's that come to mind.

The point is, some start perfect, some not so, but we all develop imperfections that ultimately 'finish us off'. It's only fair when you think about it, otherwise our world would be awfully crowded by now. Morbid, I know, but I personally take comfort in the fact, rich or poor, kings or paupers we all go the same way.

A Reg Dixon joke. And I promise the next blog, nay the next two will be light hearted.

'I had to go to the doctors the other day and the doctor said "It's me clack." You know what your clack is, it's that little bit of skin at the back of your throat. He said mine was too long, two inches too long. The doctor said if I'd had a big meal I'd have flogged myself to death.'