Mail today: Backpacker Magazine and AARP newspaper. Both addressed to me. Depressing mail. Why?
I've subscribed to Backpacker Magazine since my first adventure into the wilderness in 1997. I haven't backpacked for over two years due to the back pain problem and it's pure torture to receive that magazine every month. But two years ago when I renewed my subscription I had no idea that it would become a source of such anguish. Now I glance through the pretty scenery pictures with envy. I skim through the latest reviews of the newest and best equipment with yearnings. Then I toss it on top of the giant tower of magazines that I think, by some miracle, will be useful someday.
The AARP newspaper and its companion Modern Maturity comes next. It's been arriving like clockwork since I passed that 50 year threshold. Oh yeah, I pay my dues so I can torment myself each month with this subscription. I settle into my relax-the-back antigravity chair and check out all the great things I have to look forward to. Things like diapers (not my grandsons), liquid food supplements, hearing aids, canes and wheel chairs. This one I toss into the recycle bin not wanting a tower of reminders about what will inevitably come.
The rest of the month will be a little less painful. I'll be reading Writers Digest (when I should be writing), The Sun (because it has good writing in it), More (because I am over 50), Prevention (so I can stay healthy), Weight Watchers (so I can stay slim), Viking (so I will be prepared to go to Norway someday) and Diablo (because it comes free).
Quarterly I'll be reading StoryCircle Journal (because I am an occasional contributor) and Calyx (because I want to be a contributor someday).
Perhaps I should cancel them all, publish my writing, retire, eat junk food, and use the money I save to go to Norway before I need Depends.
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