ENTS, 

Back when I was younger, before my hair turned gray and starting falling out, I 
imagined how I might recognize the onset of decline into old age with its 
attendant feelings of powerlessness and the eventual oblivion? 


This morning I think I discovered the metric needed, while waiting for my car 
to be serviced at the local Buick dealer. It was a little too raw to go outside 
and wander around looking at trees, so I stuck it out in the waiting room, 
which meant I was exposed to the T.V. set. Game shows. Horror of horrors. Two 
little old ladies had copped the set were glued to the wins and losses. They 
discouraged any thoughts of channel changing with piercing looks. I audibly 
mumbled my displeasure, but wasn't about to chance getting swatted by an old 
lady's purse. I sullenly set through the hoopla. 


Game shows. What better measure of mental decline than a tally of the number of 
hours spent watching giddy contestants alternately scream and bawl and confirm 
our addiction to materialism. Where do we cast our ballots for euthanasia? 


Bob 

-- 
Eastern Native Tree Society http://www.nativetreesociety.org 
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