The Out All Night Days

As time slips by and I slow down
I find no need to go uptown.
The bars as bright as in my youth
Hold no delights, to tell the truth.

I’d rather sit in my own home
And play with doggie and his bone.
Or read a book or take a walk
With doggie, up and down our block.

But I remember way back then
When going out with all my friends
And staying out sometimes till dawn
Was what our fun depended on.

I don’t regret the wilder time.
My young man’s life before my prime.
I smile to recall things we did
And nights we might have flipped our lid.

And now I’m dull,
I sit a lot.
Am I unhappy?
No I’m not.

  • Jim Hagarty

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.