Just a shard off the aged cobblestone

"Sometimes you just have to do the best you can with what you've got."

I began to cringe before I even finished the sentence .  So clichéd.  So something my father would say.  

"What did you say, Daddy?" asked Luke, he being on the receiving end of my tiresome platitude.  

I am trying to remember the exact situation.  Almost certainly, it had to do with him wanting to construct some sort of sports equipment, apparatus, or field -- football, basketball, baseball, soccer, golf course -- in the yard.  And me not having the materials, knowledge, and/or wherewithal to create something that measured up to his specifications.

But that phrase, ugh!  That trite, hackneyed maxim sent my mind off on two tangents.

The first, and perhaps more obvious one, is how the older I get, the more like my parents I become.  Not referring to physical appearance, though that is also true, as little Harper pointed out Thursday when I tried on my new bifocals.  "Daddy, you look a little like PeePaw."

Perhaps it's not even becoming like my parents as much as it is becoming a stereotypical parent, in general.  If such a thing exists.  Or simply getting older.

Whatever it is, I'm sure it would make for an excellent Progressive turning-into-your-parents commercial.

I walk around the house constantly turning off lights in empty rooms and closing doors to outside, an energy-saving perpetual motion machine.

At the store, I'll put back a pack of chicken that is $6.42 and grab the one that is $6.13.

I'm all about leaving a sporting event a few minutes before the end in order to "beat the traffic."

I've hopped off the social media train.  I boarded in AOLville sometime in the 90's, passed over Mt. Saint MySpace, and continued on to Facebook Falls and Twitter Town.  But it is here that I hop off, on the lovely and humorous meme-mecca, Instagram Island.  It is in these lands where I and my clicks, likes, and pokes shall spend the rest of our days.

Like Moses on Mount Nebo, I can see the wares of Snapchat City, TikTok Trails, and Rio de Discord.  But, alas, I shall not be making the journey over.  Let's be honest, I probably couldn't figure out how most of it works anyway.  

Same thing with clothes.  When the world of fashion said hello to skinny jeans, it said goodbye to me.    I'm at the point of "I know what I like, and as long as there is a store in the world that still sells boot-cut jeans and short-sleeve men's Henleys, I'm riding it out 'til the end."

More examples: 

I enjoy gardening.  Going out to eat after 7 pm seems extreme.  I got excited last week when I got to use my new cordless hedge trimmer.  I actually use the phone app on my cell phone.  Heck, I still leave voicemails.  Yeah.  Let that sink in.

I sometimes shop in stores.  I'm on three prescription medications.  Soon I'll have to buy one of those seven-day pill boxes.  I bet Mom's got an extra one.  A common internal debate is, "Have I injured something or is this just how I walk now?"  Because to paraphrase REM, everything hurts... sometimes.

And we won’t even get into the dad jokes. (Remember the movie E.T.?  What was E.T. short for?  Because he had tiny legs.)

The second tangent my brain followed is how many clichés, while often making for terrible and boring writing, do tend to hold some value.  I know I'm not splitting the atom here.  But how often I use or hear a cliché and never give it another thought, when there is usually a bit of wisdom to consider.  IF you can get past the banality of the thing. 

After all, wasn't it Theodore Roosevelt who coined the phrase my phrase devolved from?  "Do what you can, with what you've got, where you are."  (Although when asked where it came from, the ol’ Trust Buster attributed it to "some guy named Bill, probably.")

But I digre....  er.... I circumlocute.

Still, they are words he believed in and one might very easily extrapolate, strove to live by.  And who among us wouldn't heed advice from he who spoke softly and carried a... well... you know.

Sigh.

Alright, I think I'm gonna call it a day.  

Get out while the gettin's good.

(And don't worry, I won't give up my day job.)