The Cha-Cha-Cha

The Cha-Cha-Cha

I do hope you have been wearing life like a loose garment since last we met.

Then, we considered whether getting thee to a nunnery or emulating Lady Gaga might ease the pain of divorce.

Now I want to discuss the dangers of fluffy thinking.

We will draw on the behaviour of those who wrongly believe that having negotiated the white water rapids of divorce in the flimsy kayak of life, the best thing to do is to sail into the mystic. In the post-divorce haze some people come to believe that the moon is in the seventh house and Jupiter aligns with Mars. That peace will guide the planets and love will steer the stars. This is what they call the dawning of the age of Aquarius and which I call fluffy thinking. Are you tempted to go a bit Joni Mitchell? Some who take this road are seized by a desire to drive through Death Valley in an old Winnebago, choking on the fumes from too many joss sticks, in the hope of finding themselves.Chances are that all they’ll find is that searing 50 degree heat will melt your tyres shortly before it melts your critical faculties, making you as desiccated as the husk of a long-dead cicada. If this sort of road trip has crept onto your bucket list, strike a line through it as soon as possible. And move on (preferably not in the Winnebago).Fluffy thinkers yearn for the popular sounds of the 70s. Flutes, finger cymbals and wind chimes. Whale song. This isn’t a problem in itself. But how will you know when you’ve gone too far? Your physician knows best but here’s a rule of thumb. It’s one thing to listen to whale songs. It’s quite another to actually sing them. Out loud. In the launderette, for instance. This will trigger a mass unfriending on Facebook, draw unwanted attention from precinct cops, and ensure you never make another friend as long as you live.

Avoid psychics too. They’ll doubtless contact an old flame, now deceased, who will pass a message to you from beyond the shimmering curtain. They will say that despite an eternity of reconsideration they still don’t like you. Why risk such a blow to your ego? You are of course free to ignore everything I have said so far. However, I have kept my strongest advice until last—ignore it at you peril…

It is this: Avoid yoga as you would negative equity, sub-prime lending and amoebic dysentery. There is an attraction to this most ancient of arts, yet it is a fatal one, especially for present day baby boomers. People being people, some of our readers will sign up for a yoga class despite my warning, so here’s a tip: if you really must do yoga, avoid complicated positions like the semi-reversed sunflower squat, especially where suddenly bending over is involved. Why? Because at your age, as sure as eggs is eggs, you will fart. You won’t mean to, but there will be gas. Any yogic connection you may have established between this earthly plane and the Great Beyond will be irretrievably severed in perpetuity in a single pop. Worse. For those of you who have sleepless nights over the correct orientation of the butter dish during a dinner party, such an audible breach of etiquette will quickly transform your social diary into a wasteland on the scale of the Oklahoma dust bowl. Friends will desert you in droves. That’s the last thing anyone wants when starting to make connections again.

Tune in next time when the topic will be horizontal dancing: how to avoid doing it, thinking about it or speaking about it.

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