This was an odd week, one in which I got a few hard-core reminders that I’m getting older. Which kind of sucks, you know. Not overly complaining, mind you, just sayin’.
On Tuesday I got the biopsy report on a spot on my eyebrow that I had removed a week and a half ago: basal cell skin cancer. It’s a topical variety, nothing that gets bad unless you do nothing about it. I had it cut off so I guess that counts as doing something. Doc told me there’s a very small chance of it coming back and from here on out I just get regular look-overs. My mother and sister both have forms of skin cancer so I took this very seriously. I feel good about what the steps I took but as I was told this was a result of a sun-event that probably took place about thirty-five years ago, it made me feel old.
Thursday I went in for an eye exam, first one in at least ten years (I know, I know) and yes, as I guessed, I need bifocals. If Tuesday made me feel old, Thursday made me feel ancient – and the capper was yet to come.
After my eye exam I went to see “Indiana Jones and the Incredibly Long Title of the Kingdom of the Crystal Skulls” and it’s sixty-something star. That made me reflect on the first three Indy movies and that made me feel oldly-old-ancienty-old. Then Karen Allen appeared on-screen and my mortality flew out the window and into a nearby trash can.
I liked the film a lot, though, and got a big kick out of it. I wouldn’t want to see them try it again but I appreciated everything that went into it and would gladly give it another screening. It should be viewed simply as another Indiana Jones film, albeit one made in and made for the 21st century. Looking at in any other way would be foolish, I think. Its not Tolstoy or Shakespeare or even McCartney and Lennon; its Indiana Jones and its one heckuva fun way to spend a few hours.