Now I know what it feels like to be one of the zombies in The Walking Dead television series.
Last Saturday night as my wife and I were out on the town, one of my former students approached me and said, “Mr. Murphy, I didn’t think you were still alive.”
Initially, I felt like Mark Twain when it was rumored that he had died and he responded: “The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated.” But lacking Twain’s wit, I simply said, “As you can see, I’m still alive, barely.”
Even though I laughed it off, the incident did provide cause for reflection.
When I was in my twenties, I don’t know how many times my mother admonished me with this line: “You’re burning the candle at both ends.”
I’m thinking about this because recently, when it comes to going out at night, I sometimes have difficulty just lighting the candle at all, let alone burning it at both ends. In fact, I’m starting to suspect that I no longer even have a candle to burn due to the fact that all the wax has melted.
Nowadays, when I’m sitting at a bar sipping a drink with young people milling around, it sure sounds like they’re having a lot more fun than I am. It’s like everyone else in the bar is paired up with Robin Williams – while my wife and I are with Mr. Rogers.
The truth is that observing young people for a while in a bar on Saturday night can make a guy my age nostalgic and… uh, sleepy.
Another annoying nightlife hitch is that my wife and I usually go to bars to hear live music. But we often leave for home before the bands even start… or the volume is cranked up way too high for our old ears.
I realize that a guy my age should probably give up and stay home at night. But I’ve got just enough of a stubborn streak to ward off that reality. Besides, if I don’t show my face around town at night occasionally, those exaggerated rumors of my demise may spread around more often.
