I am in my eighties. Damn it, I should have life figured out by now. I have studied. I read plenty. You could find me laid out on the floor in my house. You could find that I didn't wake up this morning. Of course, I might be the first of my kind to live 160 years. It is usually about here that friends say, "Maybe, but what kind of living would that be?"
The point is that after all that reading and studying and thinking and pondering and considering, I still don't know. I mean how long is it going to be before I have the answers? I really think I have as many questions now as I did when I was only 40. I am beginning to see that learning and reading can lead to more questions, not less.
I told my clever wife about this problem and she said,"Answers to what?" That is like a woman, isn't it? To everything, damnit! By this time, I should have it all figured out and know all the answers. All of them! I am beginning to run low on time. My Puritan ancestors had the right idea: try harder! I have got to read faster, watch videos at a higher speed, let audiobooks run faster, too. I have got to carry more books home from the library.
Many guys look like they know it all. Their faces look satisfied. Some of them even say they have the answers. Why them and not me? I have paid my taxes and brushed my teeth. I should be more solidly in the know than I am. I have a PhD, for crying out loud!
I can tell you one thing: I better get some answers soon and good ones or else!
