From ‘Hakuna Matata’ to life’s realities

When Pumba was a young warthog, along with Timon and Simba, their Hakuna Matata philosophy wasn’t a passing craze, as we know. Perhaps, it should have been.

In 1994, The Lion King became an instant classic, as did its catchphrase.

In my mid-20s at the time, married with two children, it was a great little tune to have bouncing around one’s problems.

Now, 30-odd years later, with two bouts of pneumonia, diabetes type 2 and acidosis (all since December), it is amazing how clear hindsight becomes.

I won’t go into the gory details, suffice to say it has not been an easy eight weeks. Also, saddled with diabetes means one has to be careful about diet etc, otherwise toes and things start falling off.

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I’m kind of attached to those.

On the other hand, perhaps it is time to let go of Hakuna Matata. Or, it would have been better to focus on things that relieved stress, instead of ignoring that which causes it.

But you’re in your 20s, you’re bulletproof, broken bones heal in less than a month, all manner of nasties quiver and fall before you as you stride through your 30s, vanquishing all who would challenge you.

Then, somewhere in winter, in your 40s, that broken kneecap says hello.

Actually, it’s more like, do you remember this one? And for the rest of that winter, all the flashbacks, all the squeaks and chirps and clicks and clacks when you turn just that little bit wrong…

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Then, of course, the whole family of a misspent youth begin to wake up and join in the cacophony, making you sound like ball bearings being shaken in a tin can in the morning.

After all, the great philosopher, Meatloaf, did say a wasted youth was better by far than a wise and productive old age.

Although, as one wondering if I’ll make it to a wasted old age, the young ’uns of today do have options.

They can ignore us as we fade into the paintwork, then go and make the same mistakes in life we did, while we tut-tut to ourselves.

In this modern age, one raises ones voice cautiously, rarely, if at all, as online search engines seem to have all the answers.

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They won’t tell you not to wear slops on a wet tiled floor, however, so you don’t shatter aforementioned kneecap into two pieces.

A little life lesson there, which had me in plaster for more time than I cared for.

Wasting too much of one’s youth also isn’t ideal. There’s enough energy in a young mind to take over from Eskom and maybe, just maybe, not marinading it in alcohol is an option.

Far be it from to me dictate the dangers of booze. I’ve measured my length on the floor a few times in my youth being wasted.

At least nobody had cellphones back then, unlike today when drunken antics can spread quicker than a flaming sambuca knocked over before you could hoover it.

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Trust me, not fun.

People talk of living forever, cryogenics and what-what. Nobody should want to live forever. It’s unnatural. Of course, it’s sad when a person dies and takes their laughter, their life lived and experience and wisdom with them, but it has to be so the next generation can forge their path and grow from their lived lives.

It used to be, if the music is too loud, you’re too old, which was apparently coined by American rocker Ted Nugent.

At least that, for now, still holds for moi. Yea, it’s affecting my hearing, but at this stage, I really don’t give a sh*t anymore.

Life is there for living. Don’t waste a second.

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