Day 65

ImageDay 65

Some serious changes have occurred since the last time. Grapefruit Willie is beginning to look now like an orange Mr. Potato Head, or a sweet-potato head to be precise. Its right eye is a bit encrusted yet, but be sure it’ll blossom into a gruesome anomaly in the oncoming month or so.

Our science project has sprouted a mouth as well, sort of pursed and reminiscent of Mr. Bill, the hapless figurine in that old Saturday Night Live skit, getting ready to be pounded by Mr. Hand, or Sluggo: “Ohhhh noooooooooooooo.”

Time is now for getting a new picture license needed by yours truly. The four-year, hermetically-sealed, plastic-covered reminder of how one has aged in the past four years is expiring on May 12, the day after my birthday. Again Mr. Procrastinator is waiting until the last minute to take his pre-authorized, official camera card to the nearest DOT photo center for obtaining the renewal.

I dread comparing the difference between my soon-to-be new license’s photo with that from 2010, having noticed a distinct difference between the latter’s and the one from 2006. Youngsters don’t notice it as much, but after 50 it becomes treachery in many. Everyone wishes to grow old gracefully, not like Grapefruit Willie as seen above.

One thing happened this year which has never transpired; that being the filing of my income taxes well before the April 15th deadline—eleven days prior to be exact. A few years have passed since the post office was open until midnight on the cutoff day, but with cost-cutting measures across the board, my local center closes at regular time. I found that out the last time I waited until the final minute, only to put the tax documents into the mailbox outside after dashing home and plastering the front of the manila envelops with the rest of my Forever Stamps, hoping the postage sufficed; and the postmark wouldn’t be held against me. 

Envisioning the taxman as the Grim Reaper, coming to drag me to the gallows for filing late, I waited nervously for the next month until finding my tax check had been cashed by the government; and no further action developed, henceforth my early submittals from then on.

My only other procrastinated obligation is to get the Cooper inspected by April 30th. Usually I push it off until the first week after that deadline. If I’m stopped by the police, my prepared excuse will be I have an appointment for inspection on the following day, having been told that works, and will force myself out of bed early to take the auto to my neighborhood service center who takes me in always.

Fortunately for me, the preceding traffic-stop scenario has never taken place, and I’m able to stretch the annual responsibility for another thirty days. The replaced inspection stickers reflect the month in which the process was made. Realistically, the nuisance should occur every November, the month in which my car was registered, which goes to show you how many years I’ve been pushing this off.

Happy holiday weekend and happy procrastinating!




About Mike Slickster

As an early retiree with an honorary doctorate degree from the proverbial "School of Hard Knocks," this upcoming author with a lot of free time on his hands utilizes his expansive repertoire for humorous yet tragic, wildly creative writing that contains years of imaginative fantasy, pure nonsense, classic slapstick, extreme happiness and searing heartbreak; gathered by a wealth of personal experiences throughout his thrilling—sometimes mundane or unusually horrid—free-spirited, rock-'n'-roller-coaster ride around our beloved Planet Earth. Mike Slickster's illustrious quest continues, living now in Act Three of his present incarnation, quite a bit on the cutting edge of profundity and philosophical merriment as seen through his colorful characters, most notably evident in the amusing Thirty Days Across the Big Pond series, all of which can be found at
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