Wednesday, January 23, 2008

"Eh? Can you speak up sonny?"

I was reading this post from Virginia is for Lovers earlier today and was reminded that I am getting old...I had to admit that I could not join her club of "20-Something" bloggers because I had shed that title back in "ought-six".

Couple that realization with the plethora of grey hairs that seem to be making like horny rabbits on my head and I have to begin dealing with the inevitable...Old Age.

I know, I know...I am still a pup, right? I mean, I can only remember 1 president that does not have the name Bush or Clinton, I was not alive while Mao was reigning in China, and while I may own the entire discography of Led Zeppelin, I have only been around for the release of 1 of their studio albums...but nonetheless I can see the coming mountain and it is daunting.

It starts with the gray hair...Claire swears up-and-down that they are simply blond highlights, but I know better...and my beard seemed to get a saltier color every day. Can I blame that on her?

It moves on to that little groan that I let out as I climb into and out of bed each day...humpf...I don't know why I groan...I don't really hurt, but it just seems like something us old folks should do.

It continues with those lines in my face when I smile or frown...which I seem to do more and more of each day...the frowning part, not the smiling part. I mean, if I am going to think I am a grumpy old man, I should look the part...right?

The clues continue to get dropped when I realize that I am ruined for days if I don't get at least 6 hours of sleep...and if I stay up much past midnight, look-out cause I know I will pay for that the rest of the week. I get sleepy around 3 in the afternoon, I have a sudden urge to garden, I am worrying that my diet might lead to high cholesterol, and it sometimes takes a second to get a good pee stream going...

Sure, I am younger than many people...even some of my friends. I can still run a marathon (but so can people that were alive the Model T was still on the road), I can't run for President yet, I don't see any folly in jumping from an airplane (although, neither does George Herbert Walker Bush and he is 83), and I still eat just about anything I want without worry of indigestion (but so do these two).

It is just those pesky gray hairs and wrinkle lines by my eyes that give me pause...that and I said "back in ought-six" without even batting an eye.


Scarlett Wanna Be said...

If it makes you feel better, girls find hair in new places...I bet that doesn't make you feel better.

WILLIAM said...

Back in Ought six is a sign that you are acting old.

And as far as salt and pepper in the beard..I hear you.

kimmy said...

Thanks for stopping by my blog. My kids are mostly responsible for all my gray hairs - I swear they multiply while I am asleep!


Bogart in P Towne said... I am really curious!

William...thanks...I have been accused of "talking" old-like...saying things like "Lady-Friend" and "Ought-Six"...

Kimmy...I hear that is what they do..and I am just now really figuring that out!

kpellatiro said...

still laughing. So where do i mention who gave you the gray :)

Bogart in P Towne said...

KP -- Was it you?