By Bob Basso
This booklet may perhaps good be the battly cry of the newborn boomer iteration this present day. In his exciting and motivating publication, writer Bob Basso, dubbed America's number 1 enjoyable Motivator via humans Weekly, takes the reader alongside at the wild, wacky, experience of a middle-age dropout midway up a tree within the South Pacific. A therapeutic and hilarious trip into smooth adulthood, this publication deals a lighthearted method of getting extra enjoyable out of lifestyles and discarding superseded attitudes that stifle concept and repress additional improvement within the most sensible years forward. Basso bargains meals for the soul to an individual within the region of 50.
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Additional resources for Never Wanted to Set the World on Fire But Now that I'm 50 Maybe it's a Good Idea!
Sole speck of life journeying across the ghostly wastes of a dead world, he trembles at his audacity, realizes that his is a maggot's life, nothing more. Strange thoughts arise unsummoned, and the mystery of all things strives for utterance. " We say the final line together as if on cue. " Hannah, the classic, self-contained Libra, was flushed with embarrassment. It wouldn't be the last time my Page 39 impromptu outbursts would redden her cheeks. Two Japanese tourists ask for my autograph. " Hannah melts down behind her counter.
I've watched them zoom into dogs, big and small, cows, roosters, goats, donkeys, and poor old Mister Buelli, the yard man. They never draw blood. " For the price of some whole-wheat bread crumbs on the porch sill, they will abandon their combative ways, put on their showbiz hats, and do what mynahs do extraordinarily wellmimic the sounds of Page 16 others. Romy and Remy are the best. Their pigeon trill is superior, but they do a pretty fair blackbird yelp as well. We usually talk at dusk under the lilikoi tree on the side of the house.
I'm expecting a '32 Chevy stick-on-the-floor complete with a rumble seat. I get a dented combat-veteran '85 Toyota covered waist-high in volcanic red dirt. Yesterday fades. The magician smiles apologetically. "Sor-ree. We're short-handed. Our lot boy has a volleyball tournament today. " Up the red hill, eight miles past the family farms, a dozen different storybook wooden-framed steepled churches side by side, past the legendary Coconut Grove of King Kamehameha V with its thousand-plus coconut palms planted in 1803considered a special resting place of the Godsand into Molokai's principal town, Kaunakakai.