Folks who have continued not to die say the darnedest things.

by Angela K. Durden
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.

I have continued not to die for quite some time now.

I could've died three times, and came very close to dying one time, but thanks to the intervention of modern medicine and doctors who knew how to properly use it, I did not die at all. As an astute reader, you know this because you are reading this article thus far and going, "Duh, Angela. Sheesh. Can you get on with your story?"

However, as someone who has continued not to die, I'm finding myself saying some of the darnedest things. Things I would never have said even a decade earlier.

When I was a wise and all-knowing nineteen, I remember telling this really old woman, "Well, if you just want to eat raw onions, you could. Mind over matter."

The old woman stared at me with what I now realize is a yuge case of déjà vu, and finally managed to whisper, "One day...one day you'll understand."

As I bit into my big old slice of onion on top of a hamburger patty between a bun, I rolled my eyes and sneered — patiently, of course, as I was wise and all-knowing. The old woman was still reeling from her déjà vu as I happily chowed down and thought, "Honestly. These old people. I'll never get like that."

I wish I was so old now: Forty seems so young.

My déjà vu moments did not arrive until recently but when they came, they came hard, tumbling one over the other in an unrelenting stream of wise and all-knowing helpful Hints & Tips O'da Day from under forty-somethings. 

I used to wonder why my beloved Awesome Aunt Number One (AANO) used to give mean, dirty looks to waitstaff. I now know why. It's because when she arrived in the restaurant they invariably said, "Hello, deeeearrr. Would you like a table?"

At the time I would think, "Oh, isn't that so sweet?" while AANO would reply to the little twit...errrr...waitstaff/host/hostess, "Just show us to a table, pleeeeez. UGGH." 

Now I, a folk who has continued not to die, am popping out with the darnedest thing when it is said to me. That's right, just like AANO I give a mean and dirty look to the waitstaff as I say Godfather-style, "Call me dear one...more...time...and you will not see a tip."

Here I am hanging out in Nashville with another folk
who has continued not to die. That's right!
I hang out with Country Artist Stars who only
wish they could write songs as well as me so, damn it,
I don't deserve to be called "DEAR!"
In case you cannot tell who is who, I am on the left, and
Keith Burns of Trick Pony is on the right.

Awesome Cousin Number One (or ACNO), who was born as if she had already not died for a long time, that is to say she was born old — thank you for waiting while I stop choking on that word — just loves to be called dear. Though she will sneer at the question about the table because, you see, ACNO was born with no patience for idiots. 

So when we go out to lunch the poor waitstaff sees two women who have continued not to die, one threatening their livelihood just because they were trying to be nice, and the other saying (just like AANO did), "Well, OF COURSE we want a table. Why else would we have come in? I mean, really —" ACNO says turning to me — "what an idiotic question. Don't they train these people any better? I'm going to call the manager over and tell him..."

"Yeah!" says I. "Call him over. Damn impertinent! That's what they are. If I was eighty-five, sure, call me dear because I would deserve it, but I am not eighty-five. Do I look eighty-five?"

"You do not," replies ACNO in a most definitive fashion like she really means it. "In fact, for your age, you look damn fine. Nobody would guess you are older than me by eight months."

"I am not older than you by eight months," I correct her. "It is only by four months. Why can't you remember that? Oh, and don't ever say to me again for your age. You got that?"

"Sorry. Got it. Won't do it again. But, oh yeah, that's right. It is four months. I was counting from February to November but I should have been counting from November to February...where are our menus? They are soooo slow. Geez. Can't they see we've been here for two minutes already and withering from hunger? You would think..."

"No customer service these days. Oh, God. Here she comes. I swear to you, ACNO, if that girl calls me dear, you're gonna have to hold me back."

Of course, there is the flip side.

Do I LOOK like a predatory cougar to you?
(You do not have to answer that if you're gonna say no.)

When I go out to eat with my son, who looks like he has continued not to die for a shorter time than I have continued not to die, waitstaff all think he's my boy toy. Yes! It is true! They think I am a cougar. I despise cougars. Cougars are predatory and I am not predatory.

But that is a story for another day.