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Mom Genes

My friends are at the age where some of their hardware needs updating. I’ve always been ahead of the curve there. After all, I am Aquarius and you know what they say about Aquarees... Aquarianese… Aquarians—“As an Aquarius is today, so goes the world tomorrow.” In other words, my joints were shot long before their time.


Computer software updates are much easier to accomplish than joint hardware updates—the key words here being hard wear. I’ve been told that getting old ain’t for sissies, but I’ve never subscribed to that. I’m proud of every stinkin’ year I’ve lived through—thrived and survived. I've earned every one of these wrinkles. Wait—do you think they can be returned? Probably not after they're worn. Anyway, Since my body is bionic, sometimes people ask for my sage advice.


“What you you think about knee replacement surgery?” This from a friend who looks easily 15 years below her age. “Years ago I injured my knee dancing, and now it’s caught up with me. It's bone-on-bone.”


As I ask her for details, she moans, “Neither of my parents has ever had a surgery in their life!”


“Hmmm…” I wisely say, rubbing my chin… “Neither one—ever?”


“Nope.”


“You must have good mom-genes. ” I observe, “and dad genes—but of course nobody wears dad jeans these days.”


“Huh?”


“But jeanetics isn’t really a factor here as your accident can’t really be considered hereditary, can it?”


You can understand why people seek my counsel about such topics—I’m astute in such matters and most every other matter as well. I’ve had both knees replaced, eight foot surgeries, a rod and six screws in my back, both thumb joints replaced, one shoulder and another in waiting… and most importantly, my hair turned white when I was a mere thirty-year-old, adding to my innovatory air.


Although I don’t remember my parents having any surgeries either, I inherited arthritis from my mom and grandmother. I’d never knowingly choose to don mom-genes or grandma-genes. Ew. It doesn’t fit at all with my futuristic Aquarius persona. So I simply refuse to slow down and settle into my generic geneariactric identity. Like I always told my gene-pool-parents, You’re not the boss of me! You can’t tell me what to do!


“So, what do you think? Should I get my stupid knee replaced or what?” My friend persists.


“I say do whatever the heck it takes to defy gravity and keep going full steam until you turn up your toes and dance yourself right off this mortal coil. It’s either that or buy a rocking chair.”


She nods in agreement. Like I said, as Aquarius is today, so goes the world tomorrow. You see, it’s in my genes.