Aging is a wonderful muther dubber. The Boy Scout motto (or was it Cub Scouts… hell I forget.. I just remember I hadta do something voluntary at a church to get some merit badge... I’d never been in a church.. Scared the watoosie outta me, quit.).. Ahem.. “Be Prepared.”
Well… there ain’t no way to prepare for aging. You observe older folks as a youth, entire time thinking to self “I ain’t gonna be like that.”.. Then, we’re like that.
There was some movie, again, can’t remember fer sure which, in which Steve Martin had some incredibly outta place facial feature (nose maybe?) and he was completely terrified out in public. I get up, drive to work. Shakes hands, visit with those all around. Then. To restroom. Unfortunately, basta has incredibly wonderful lighting. There. It’s there I discover what must be in excess of one half inch long - “the” ear hair. Damnit Jim.
So….. Thanks to kind coworkers, they kept their giggle inside, didn’t laugh at me as they did Steve in the movie. I plucked that basta, and onto another day.
Now, before I say “hey” to anyone at work, it’s to the greatly lit room with a pair of tweezers to nip in the bud any wondering hairs. They grow with more frequency than my grass in the spring. Why, after fitty some years, does God tell the body.. Tell the ears.. “It’s time.” I mean crap, they’ve been sequestered for half a century, and NOW it’s time to grow?
Of walking upright. Tippy Butts. Remember this town “character” growing up. He was prolly six foot tall, but was more actually like three foot tall vertically, and three foot tall horizontally. “I’m not gonna be like that.” Uh huh. Can be. No matter the pursuit to “stay young” (golf, basketball, softball, bowling, elliptical) - the next day, I awaken, walk like Tippy into the bathroom - and view my vertical-horizontal self. She-it.
Shrinkage. You’ve got a dirty mind, not what I’m talking about - but then again never measured.. Hell .. That’s probably happening too.. But not from aging.. From lacka use.. I have gone from 36/34 jeans/slacks……. To 36/32 jeans/slacks.. The the ‘now’ 36/30 jeans/slacks. I now know how the Wicked Witch of the West felt. I remember in High School being measured “close enough.. Let’s call it 6 foot.” Works for me. Recent health fair at work.. “a shade over 5’11”……. Where did that inch go? Will there be certain rides at Worlds of Fun I won’t be allowed on? Will I die a midget?
Brown spots started happening right about the time I turned fitty and the bastas from AARP mailed me their crap. “Huh uh, nomme.” Tossed the AARP literature. Scraped the brown spots. Damn if they didn’t both return.
So……. Remembering (Boy Scouts or Cub Scouts, hell I dunno) “Be Prepared” I Googled “what to expect as I age.” Found a report from the Mayo Clinic.
“Swallowing and the motions that automatically move digested food through your intestines slow down as you get older. The amount of surface area within your intestines diminishes slightly.”
Great… I guess BBQ Ribs are out… sounds as if I’m destined for pickles and grapes.
“About one in 10 people age 65 and older has experienced a loss of bladder control (urinary incontinence). “
Great… Now I’ll have to get better lighting in my bathroom at home to check for wondering ear/nose hairs, as well as pee stains.
“The number of cells (neurons) in your brain decreases with age, and your memory becomes less efficient.”
Where was I?
“Hearing loss is one of the most common conditions affecting adults who are middle-aged and older.”
This could be a good thing. Brb, going to turn up The Temptations.
“How your teeth and gums respond to age depends on how well you've cared for them over the years.”
Why did I read that? Damnit.
“With age, your skin thins and becomes less elastic and more fragile. You'll likely notice that you bruise more easily.”
Knew that one. Hell, if I don’t turn the lights on when I awaken (like clockwork) at 3am to pee - and I lightly bump into the BR doorway… I get a bruise on my arm the size of Cuba. Worse than anything I ever got way back in the day when I used to arm tackle on the football field.
“With age, sexual needs, patterns and performance may change. Women's vaginas tend to shrink and narrow, and the walls become less elastic. Vaginal dryness is a problem. All of this can make sex painful….Impotence becomes more common in men as they age. By age 65, as many as one in four men has difficulty getting or keeping an erection. In others, it may take longer to get an erection, and it may not be as firm as it used to be.”
Now, I’m an upright chap, but you gotta nuther thing coming if you think I’m going to rise and respond to that one. Besides, I’m single for behoogety sakes!
And Mayo goes on to remind us old farts to stop smoking (har har), eat healthy (a number 2 super-sized please) exercise for at least 30 minutes most days of the week (have been, and that’s given me the Tippy Butts syndrome), maintain a healthy weight (yeah yeah, so-so).. Get enough sleep (how does one control that when you awaken bright-eyed at 4:45 am?). Follow your doctor’s guidance. (I don’t go to the doctor.. And when I did, he was like 20+ years younger.. Howinthehell is he going to advise me.. He’s never even had any ear hair?)
So…. Still ticking. Beats the alternative.
And…… until the day I pee my pants and forget my name…. Love, Victurd.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
May-something, 1970...
Oh Victor, the next 40 years…..
What? What about ‘em?
Different. Very.
You mean I won’t settle down, have two kids, marry that gal the was Courtwarming Queen, the perfect ranch home on the perfect cul-de-sac?
We’ll somea that. You’ll never really settle down.. In fact, 40 years from now you’ll still be quite the Happy Hour attendee… and you will eventually, kinda-sorta, have two kids.. And no, you won’t marry the Courtwarming Queen either time..
EITHER TIME? WHAT? Unheard of… I learned from my grandparents.. 60 years married.. My own folks.. One wife, one hubby, one marriage..
Sorry Victor. Twice. You’ll say “til death do us part” twice.. Although you admittedly welled up the second time ‘cause you had already said it.
Then who? Who will I marry?
The first will be a gal that played women’s basketball for you. (kinda-sorta).
WHAT? They don’t even HAVE women’s basketball. I’m gonna coach? Was she the best on the team?
Well.. They did/do have women’s basketball, yes, you will be the assistant on the very first ever WJC team, and Head Coach for 6 more years.. And no, she barely played, your decision.. But she was pretty, exhilarating…
So….. We had two kids?
No… zip.. She came home after 6 and ½ years and announced “I told my father, I possibly have feelings for others… he said ‘then take of your belongings, and get out’… so that’s what I’m doing.”
WHAT? Marriage in my family just don’t end. Did I yell, scream, pitch a fit, beg?
No.. it all ended quietly.. And, while I’m certain she’s well and good - you’ll never see her again from 1980 until 2010.
Dayum.
So… I was 30-ish.. And no kids.. Darn.. Wife # 2?
Well, Mr. Cradle Robber, she was 8 years younger than you.
NO WAY.
WAY.
Pretty?
Very.
And we had kids?
Well… kinda sorta. She already had a 5 year old when you met.
How’d we meet?
You umpired her softball games where she, her two sisters and her mother played on the same team… She too was a friend of a friend you played softball with, and she’d come watch your games…
Damn…
Did the kid and I get along?
Yes.. .. You ended up coaching his little league teams, helping with birthday celebrations, homework, fixing broken toys, setting up army guys, playing catch.. You loved him as if he was your own.. At times.. There was a little animosity upon occasion (both ways) between he and your own son.
MY OWN SON? I/we had one?
Yes, 15 years after you graduated from High School. In fact, you went to Back to School Night for his first grade class.. And on the way home he said “Dang dad, you’re the oldest dad in my class.”
The little turd.
What about work? Will I teach 30 years and retire.
Hardy har har har. Not quite.
Then what?
Well… you’ll sell potato chips.. Work for three, count ‘em three, different airlines. (One disbanded it’s hub here, you coulda gone to NY or Chicago part time, you separated… Two went bankrupt.)
Damn…
There’s more….
Tell me…
You’ll work for an air freight forwarder, two trucking companies… You’ll get a friend on at one of them, she’ll leave her hubby (your friend) for the owner of the trucking company, you’ll quit for spite… start your own trucking company… make $60 the first month.. Living off of it by month three.
Damn, that’s not bad.. Then is that how I finish my working career? Owner-operator retires/sells business?
Ahm, no. After three successful years, you’ll come home one day and she (#2) will say “me or the business….. Pick.”
And having said “till death do us part” I disbanded the company didn’t I?
Yes Victor, you did.
You say I still attend Happy Hour with regularity.. A married man doesn’t do that.. You mean NUMBER TWO DIDN’T LAST EITHER?
Sorry. Didn’t. Oh it was a very good marriage for a long time (20 years).. Then, shit hit the fan. Your sister, I’m very sorry, died of cancer in January of 1999..
NO.. that’d make her only 51, say it ain’t so..
Sorry… so… And her brother would commit suicide two years later, the day after your wife’s birthday…
Damn.
That one really affected everything. Not solely to blame for sure - but many things happened. One sister inlaw got divorced, one was in a not so great marriage. Thus, the three sisters (your wife included) started “Girls night out.”
Well.. Probably not a bad thing…
Perhaps. It started as Wednesday nights.. Then, wasn’t long after it went to Wednesday/Fridays… and a bit later Wednesdays/Fridays/Saturdays….
Geez, you don’t even have to tell me how this one ended…
Sorry Victor..
Did I ever teach? Yes, yes you did. You taught one year of High School.. And another five years in the District you grew up in as an Elementary PE Teacher..
Cool! Did I get fired? How come I left?
Well, you panicked.
Huh?
Yeah… they have a “continuing education program”.. you were to have 6 hours completed by such-and-sucha year.. You didn’t… panicked, and found another job.
Darn.
Yep. You currently enjoy your job.. Your company moves Military member’s Household Goods allover the world.
I travel?
No.. everything is subcontracted, you work from your desk in Grandview, MO..
I loved baseball… did I keep playing?
Well, kinda-sorta again. Softball. You played many, many years both overhand fast pitch, and slow pitch.. Then, at age 45, you and wifey #2 took a family vote (as to whether you should continue to play) and you lost 1 to 1.
Damn.
But.. Then you got divorced. And, at age 56, you said “Screw it, I’m playing again.. Even if I’ve had Cataract surgery”
CATARACT SURGERY? THAT’S FOR OLD PEOPLE!
Well.. You are fitty-seven. You’d never been to the eye doctor. Things were getting blurry.. You made appointment.. He looked you over.. For 30 minutes he didn’t say a word.. Finally..
“How old are you”… 54... “you got cataracts.. In both eyes”
Damn… So, my only surgery?
Well.. . No..
You’ll have knee surgery at age 40-something… and then… after you get divorced (the second time)… remember that enlarged testicle (hydrocele) you have?
Yes….
Well… you were a little worried, at age fitty-something.. Of dating again… getting hot/bothered.. And ‘she’ would reach down there, grab that big’n and scream… so.. You had it corrected… by a gay doctor.
COME ON MAN.. You’re shitting me?
Nope, ain’t. You weren’t aware he was gay.. Until you heard his voice, saw his physical manners.. But he is respected in his field, so you continued with him… after surgery to correct the enlarged testi.. He brought you in the office… asked you to “drop your drawers”.. .he stood back thirty feet.. Put his hands up.. Thumbs together.. As if peering thru goalposts… looked at ‘em and said “PERFECT”.. You didn’t know whether to laugh or run.. Bottomline, your testicles now match in size.
So.. That’s about all that was ever wrong with me??
Aside from a broken wrist, some broken fingers, a broken nose (you’ll suffer that one in a pickup game, one of your students will accidentally whack you) and being stitched up a few times, yes, that’s about it.
So……. With all those jobs.. It doesn’t sound as if I’ve got much retirement built up?
Astute Victor. And funny you should ask about it in 1970, ‘cause you didn’t think too much about that en route to age fitty-seven. You’ve got a very small 401K.
Do I enjoy life the next forty years?
I’d have to say yes Victor. You had a very loving nuclear family, and you loved them back. Each marriage had very good times - the ends to each were sudden and unfortunate. You’ve had great times with your son (you coached him for years and years in baseball, basketball, soccer… you spent EONS of time playing catch, taking batting practice, shooting hoops.. Running his teams from this tournament to that one… a blast.)
Nice… So, gulp, I honestly don’t know if I could say “until death do us part” a third time.. Have I given up on women?
Let’s say you’re maybe ‘gun-shy’.
Huh?
Well.. There are a few along the way (you’ve been alone now for nine years) that got pretty darn serious, and each and every time you’ve pulled away. Torn between “I just don’t know if it’s right” and “hell, two have left me, what’s to say she won’t”.. You prolly need to go to a shrink about this, but knowing you, you won’t.
Yeah, you’re probably right. So my entire nuclear family is gone?
Yes, sorry. You phrase it “I couldn’t have landed in a better nuclear family, the basta’s all just departed too soon.”
Very true.
So what kinda women have I dated since #2?
Well… good question.. A conundrum….
Huh?
Yeah… you’ve been out with a 20-something, some 30-somethings, some 40-something, some 50-somethings and some 60-somethings…
Damn daddy. Wild. Say mister?
Yes…
Could you come back in 2010, let me know how/when “it all ends”?
Well Victor, I supposed I could do that. I would remind you, life is a palate, and you possess the paint/brushes to create the ‘remaining years’ however you like, for the most part.
Thanks Mister. While the brutal honestly of “how the next 40 will go” was at times disturbing, I appreciate it.
You’re welcome Victor. Happy painting.
What? What about ‘em?
Different. Very.
You mean I won’t settle down, have two kids, marry that gal the was Courtwarming Queen, the perfect ranch home on the perfect cul-de-sac?
We’ll somea that. You’ll never really settle down.. In fact, 40 years from now you’ll still be quite the Happy Hour attendee… and you will eventually, kinda-sorta, have two kids.. And no, you won’t marry the Courtwarming Queen either time..
EITHER TIME? WHAT? Unheard of… I learned from my grandparents.. 60 years married.. My own folks.. One wife, one hubby, one marriage..
Sorry Victor. Twice. You’ll say “til death do us part” twice.. Although you admittedly welled up the second time ‘cause you had already said it.
Then who? Who will I marry?
The first will be a gal that played women’s basketball for you. (kinda-sorta).
WHAT? They don’t even HAVE women’s basketball. I’m gonna coach? Was she the best on the team?
Well.. They did/do have women’s basketball, yes, you will be the assistant on the very first ever WJC team, and Head Coach for 6 more years.. And no, she barely played, your decision.. But she was pretty, exhilarating…
So….. We had two kids?
No… zip.. She came home after 6 and ½ years and announced “I told my father, I possibly have feelings for others… he said ‘then take of your belongings, and get out’… so that’s what I’m doing.”
WHAT? Marriage in my family just don’t end. Did I yell, scream, pitch a fit, beg?
No.. it all ended quietly.. And, while I’m certain she’s well and good - you’ll never see her again from 1980 until 2010.
Dayum.
So… I was 30-ish.. And no kids.. Darn.. Wife # 2?
Well, Mr. Cradle Robber, she was 8 years younger than you.
NO WAY.
WAY.
Pretty?
Very.
And we had kids?
Well… kinda sorta. She already had a 5 year old when you met.
How’d we meet?
You umpired her softball games where she, her two sisters and her mother played on the same team… She too was a friend of a friend you played softball with, and she’d come watch your games…
Damn…
Did the kid and I get along?
Yes.. .. You ended up coaching his little league teams, helping with birthday celebrations, homework, fixing broken toys, setting up army guys, playing catch.. You loved him as if he was your own.. At times.. There was a little animosity upon occasion (both ways) between he and your own son.
MY OWN SON? I/we had one?
Yes, 15 years after you graduated from High School. In fact, you went to Back to School Night for his first grade class.. And on the way home he said “Dang dad, you’re the oldest dad in my class.”
The little turd.
What about work? Will I teach 30 years and retire.
Hardy har har har. Not quite.
Then what?
Well… you’ll sell potato chips.. Work for three, count ‘em three, different airlines. (One disbanded it’s hub here, you coulda gone to NY or Chicago part time, you separated… Two went bankrupt.)
Damn…
There’s more….
Tell me…
You’ll work for an air freight forwarder, two trucking companies… You’ll get a friend on at one of them, she’ll leave her hubby (your friend) for the owner of the trucking company, you’ll quit for spite… start your own trucking company… make $60 the first month.. Living off of it by month three.
Damn, that’s not bad.. Then is that how I finish my working career? Owner-operator retires/sells business?
Ahm, no. After three successful years, you’ll come home one day and she (#2) will say “me or the business….. Pick.”
And having said “till death do us part” I disbanded the company didn’t I?
Yes Victor, you did.
You say I still attend Happy Hour with regularity.. A married man doesn’t do that.. You mean NUMBER TWO DIDN’T LAST EITHER?
Sorry. Didn’t. Oh it was a very good marriage for a long time (20 years).. Then, shit hit the fan. Your sister, I’m very sorry, died of cancer in January of 1999..
NO.. that’d make her only 51, say it ain’t so..
Sorry… so… And her brother would commit suicide two years later, the day after your wife’s birthday…
Damn.
That one really affected everything. Not solely to blame for sure - but many things happened. One sister inlaw got divorced, one was in a not so great marriage. Thus, the three sisters (your wife included) started “Girls night out.”
Well.. Probably not a bad thing…
Perhaps. It started as Wednesday nights.. Then, wasn’t long after it went to Wednesday/Fridays… and a bit later Wednesdays/Fridays/Saturdays….
Geez, you don’t even have to tell me how this one ended…
Sorry Victor..
Did I ever teach? Yes, yes you did. You taught one year of High School.. And another five years in the District you grew up in as an Elementary PE Teacher..
Cool! Did I get fired? How come I left?
Well, you panicked.
Huh?
Yeah… they have a “continuing education program”.. you were to have 6 hours completed by such-and-sucha year.. You didn’t… panicked, and found another job.
Darn.
Yep. You currently enjoy your job.. Your company moves Military member’s Household Goods allover the world.
I travel?
No.. everything is subcontracted, you work from your desk in Grandview, MO..
I loved baseball… did I keep playing?
Well, kinda-sorta again. Softball. You played many, many years both overhand fast pitch, and slow pitch.. Then, at age 45, you and wifey #2 took a family vote (as to whether you should continue to play) and you lost 1 to 1.
Damn.
But.. Then you got divorced. And, at age 56, you said “Screw it, I’m playing again.. Even if I’ve had Cataract surgery”
CATARACT SURGERY? THAT’S FOR OLD PEOPLE!
Well.. You are fitty-seven. You’d never been to the eye doctor. Things were getting blurry.. You made appointment.. He looked you over.. For 30 minutes he didn’t say a word.. Finally..
“How old are you”… 54... “you got cataracts.. In both eyes”
Damn… So, my only surgery?
Well.. . No..
You’ll have knee surgery at age 40-something… and then… after you get divorced (the second time)… remember that enlarged testicle (hydrocele) you have?
Yes….
Well… you were a little worried, at age fitty-something.. Of dating again… getting hot/bothered.. And ‘she’ would reach down there, grab that big’n and scream… so.. You had it corrected… by a gay doctor.
COME ON MAN.. You’re shitting me?
Nope, ain’t. You weren’t aware he was gay.. Until you heard his voice, saw his physical manners.. But he is respected in his field, so you continued with him… after surgery to correct the enlarged testi.. He brought you in the office… asked you to “drop your drawers”.. .he stood back thirty feet.. Put his hands up.. Thumbs together.. As if peering thru goalposts… looked at ‘em and said “PERFECT”.. You didn’t know whether to laugh or run.. Bottomline, your testicles now match in size.
So.. That’s about all that was ever wrong with me??
Aside from a broken wrist, some broken fingers, a broken nose (you’ll suffer that one in a pickup game, one of your students will accidentally whack you) and being stitched up a few times, yes, that’s about it.
So……. With all those jobs.. It doesn’t sound as if I’ve got much retirement built up?
Astute Victor. And funny you should ask about it in 1970, ‘cause you didn’t think too much about that en route to age fitty-seven. You’ve got a very small 401K.
Do I enjoy life the next forty years?
I’d have to say yes Victor. You had a very loving nuclear family, and you loved them back. Each marriage had very good times - the ends to each were sudden and unfortunate. You’ve had great times with your son (you coached him for years and years in baseball, basketball, soccer… you spent EONS of time playing catch, taking batting practice, shooting hoops.. Running his teams from this tournament to that one… a blast.)
Nice… So, gulp, I honestly don’t know if I could say “until death do us part” a third time.. Have I given up on women?
Let’s say you’re maybe ‘gun-shy’.
Huh?
Well.. There are a few along the way (you’ve been alone now for nine years) that got pretty darn serious, and each and every time you’ve pulled away. Torn between “I just don’t know if it’s right” and “hell, two have left me, what’s to say she won’t”.. You prolly need to go to a shrink about this, but knowing you, you won’t.
Yeah, you’re probably right. So my entire nuclear family is gone?
Yes, sorry. You phrase it “I couldn’t have landed in a better nuclear family, the basta’s all just departed too soon.”
Very true.
So what kinda women have I dated since #2?
Well… good question.. A conundrum….
Huh?
Yeah… you’ve been out with a 20-something, some 30-somethings, some 40-something, some 50-somethings and some 60-somethings…
Damn daddy. Wild. Say mister?
Yes…
Could you come back in 2010, let me know how/when “it all ends”?
Well Victor, I supposed I could do that. I would remind you, life is a palate, and you possess the paint/brushes to create the ‘remaining years’ however you like, for the most part.
Thanks Mister. While the brutal honestly of “how the next 40 will go” was at times disturbing, I appreciate it.
You’re welcome Victor. Happy painting.
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