Raging against the dying of the light

    Greetings from the Ridge.
    “Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”
    When the poet Dylan Thomas wrote these lines in 1947 I have no idea how he knew so many people in Coonridge.  He drank a good deal, so maybe he was just imagining things, but more and more I run into folks who rage against the dying of the light, who keep on chugging long past the age where previous elderly generations have chugged out, who remain active and vital members of their community long into their golden years. Maybe it’s a better health care system, a surge in the sale of Wheaties, or perhaps just an increased stubbornness. I’d put my money on a new wave of bull-headedness. We just refuse to be relegated to the world of sitting in doctors’ offices watching re-runs of Wheel of Fortune.
 

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