Next

Have you noticed that there is always a next? I kind of don’t like next in this world. One famous and probably most loved question is: “What’s next?” I mean, that question covers all gamuts does it not? It is the premier question of all history! What the hell is next? Next in line. For what is a person next in line for?

There is even a word that uses all but the “T” in next. Nexus. Think of the implication of nexus. If this happens this will happen and what if one doesn’t happen or, worse, one does happen? I spent three minutes thinking about nexus and found my self breaking out in a cold sweat. Don’t you hate that? It’s almost like a beer hangover. You sweat out all the suds you consumed the day before and not only was yesterday a “stupid” day drinking too much but the following day was the nexus of drinking too much the day before.

I know a bit about drinking too much. Damn near killed me in 2013. My nexus was with death. But, I persevered and here I am writing what seems to some like a nonsensical old fart complaining yet complain I do not. I just calls ’em as I sees ’em. That is the joy of being old. No, wait, there isn’t all that much joy in being old unless you make old joyful. I certainly can’t fight it nor would I as nobody knows what tomorrow will bring except a poorly thought out nexus. Criminey, what’s next?

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