Getting Old is Getting Old

This was one of the very first tales written when I started this blog. It’s being republished now as a set-up for next week’s story as I have apparently reached a new milestone in the aging process. So consider this some background to my struggle. 

Man, I’m fighting it.

Truth is, I made a deal with myself to never get old. As a younger man, you look at older men and think, “I ain’t ever gonna be like that.”

You think that because you’re an idiot. A handsome, young idiot, but you can’t stop stupid.

The old line that getting older beats the alternative isn’t cutting it anymore. Not that I’m particularly interested in dying, but…

Where did my full head of brown hair go? What’s with these love handles? Why is my wife tweezing hair from my ears?

It doesn’t get better. Looks like I’m starting to get moobs. Man boobs. I’ve started doing pushups. Not helping. I did 10 yesterday and it still looks like moobs.  What’s it going to take? 15? I don’t think I can do that many.

For a Christmas gift, I’ve asked my wife for a magnifying mirror. My eyesight is such that after I shave, if I get in some good light, I’m appalled to discover what I’ve missed.

I can only imagine what the check-out girl at the store thinks when she sees me. “Hey, old man, next time you hold a razor, try opening your eyes!”

Another thing I was never going to get was turkey neck. You know that loose skin that runs from an old guy’s chin to his neck. It’s the equivalent of back-arm waddle on older women.

I’m starting to see it develop.

I’ve consulted a friend from a plastic surgeon’s office. She says it would be best to get a neck ‘tuck’ done now while I’m younger. It’s expensive.

Maybe I should ask for that instead of a mirror. “Honey, what I really want for Christmas is plastic surgery”.

Let’s see how far I get with that.

The young lady that cuts my hair gives me tips on how to hide the fact that I am severely thinning on top. That includes selling me stuff that ‘might’ grow new hair and something else that adds volume.

I’ve stopped using it. Anything that fluffs my hair makes me look like a TV preacher. Can I get an amen?!

While we’re on the subject of hair, let’s talk about going gray in places other than the top of your head. The eyebrows, of course. (I’m sorry, what did you have in mind?)

Have you noticed that gray eyebrows grow straight out from your head. It’s like you’re growing a horn.

For as long as the occasional gray – OK, white – eyebrows have been popping up, I’ve been plucking.

This is a war I am losing.

I’ve eventually got to decide if I’m going to have any real eyebrows or do the Tammy Faye Baker: pluck them all out and paint new ones on.

I sense a theme here. Maybe I have a future on the PTL Network. Is it still on the air?