Last week the boss had her grandkids here and it was, to me, just another reminder of the fact that I am getting old. I remember when they were born and it is hard to believe that in the case of the older one eleven years have gone by. No, gone by is wrong, disappeared is more like it. It seems to me lately that there are a few massive time warps occurring in my life. I am not a physicist but if I remember rightly the closer one comes to the speed of light time slow down. If you travel ten years away from earth at light speed and ten years back then two hundred years, or something like that, have passed on Earth. Hell I don’t have to travel at that speed, all I have to do is go to bed and when I awake the next morning a whole bunch of years have disappeared. Example. Last year just before my sixty-ninth birthday I was six feet tall, one hundred and sixty pounds, with a full head of hair, all my teeth, and was rather good looking. I went to bed and when I awoke the next day and went into the bathroom, there in the mirror was this five foot seven, two hundred pound, balding, bespectacled, ugly stranger staring back at me. I think in my sleep I was swallowed by a worm hole and emerged in an alternate reality. Well it is either that or a damaged body snatching pod got me.

Whoever said “getting old sucks” only got it half right. “IT REALLY, REALLY SUCKS”. It seems that as one gets to be sixty the body, like those old cars that had a five year life span, starts to fall apart because the warranty has run out and it’s cheaper to buy a new one than repair the old. Trouble is, you can’t do that with a human body. It would be great if you could as the first thing I’d buy are two new legs, then a new heart and lungs as mine are pretty well shot. Especially my lungs. I’m a heavy smoker, and yeah I know all the arguments but I don’t drink and sex is starting to be a fond memory so I choose to smoke. It’s in my will that I am to be cremated with a cigarette in my mouth. Not really as the crematorium is a smoke free work environment. Ontario law says you can’t smoke in the work place. Weird eh!, they are burning bodies which has got to produce toxins but you can’t have a smoke. Go Figure. My Mom was a pretty good Catholic and every now and then when she would get really pissed at me she would say I would burn in Hell. Well if that is true I’m being cremated so I can be better prepared for what awaits me. Just like a Boy Scout “Always Prepared”.

So far the only good point for me in growing older, (more mature) is that the brain hasn’t aged as fast as the body. Sometimes I admit I’ll forget something but remember there is a lot of crap in my hard drive that has to be sorted through and little things can get overlooked. By the way. That more mature thing is a joke I have to be the biggest kid around. Even my oldest daughter has said “I haven’t left my first childhood yet” and to me that is a compliment. You see in my own weird way it makes me feel young again and just starting out on life’s journey. Not approaching the end. Not that I intend to be leaving anytime soon . Hell there are still some adventures left and who knows maybe I will buy that motorcycle I have always wanted. The fact that my brain still seems to be functioning fairly normally is frustrating because it firmly believes that it can make my body perform like it use to and it just can’t seem to grasp that things isn’t workin’ like they use to. Take ladders. My brain seems to think that my body should be able to climb up and down and stand on them for hours at a time. My body, being not to smart, at first says Ok but after ten minutes is screaming let me off this damn thing. How about curling up and crawling under a kitchen counter. No problem, then, oh hell cramp, bad cramp oh jeez that hurts. I love the guy that invented elevators because just the thought of climbing stairs make me want to up chuck. There are times when I bend over to pick something up I feel like I am going to go through the rest of my life bent at ninety degrees and having conversations with peoples feet. “Hey Rod. Nice shoes. Are they new?” It tells you something when the only way you can get out of bed some mornings is to roll over, squirm around and let your knees hit the floor first, crawl into the bathroom and use the vanity counter to pull  yourself up. How about every time you sit down for ten or twenty minutes and get up you gotta pee. Or you feel the urge and spend ten minutes standing like an idiot staring into the bowl waiting for the trickle to start. We shan’t mention the other bodily function because the description of what can happen is gross. Yeah and sometimes the memory likes to play practical jokes. Like you spend umpty-ump minutes tearing the apartment apart looking for your keys, only to discover that the damn things have been in your pocket all the time. How about your glasses. Same thing, they have been on the top of your head all along.

Now not all things about getting old are bad. For some reason people get the impression that you are wise and ask for your advice about something. The problem is you don’t know what the hell they are talking about, or for that matter what language they are speaking. It may sound like English but in reality it sounds like some space alien has invaded the persons’ body and is trying to communicate. How the hell should I know what an app is or streaming. It took me years to figure out bits and bytes.  Don’t get me wrong I love computers. Don’t know how to use them properly but I love them. Too bad I won’t be around when home computers will be like in Star Trek. You just talk to them and they answer. I have a cell phone. I hate the damn things but decided to get one in case of emergencies. In the menu it has all this cute little icons that make about as much sense to me as cuneiform writing. I have had it about two months now and have made one call on it just to see if it was working.

Most people who know me know that I do not like change. Well that is only partially right. I don’t mind change but not fast changes or changing for the sake of changing. I like it slow, give me time to get use to the idea. Problem is I get use to something and it changes. You take the grocery store I shop at. Every six months they move everything around. You just get use to going to aisle five for coffee and one day you walk in and it’s been moved to aisle nine. Why?. It was perfectly fine in aisle five. It wasn’t causing any trouble. It was sitting there minding its’ own business then they uprooted it. They even move the express checkout around. Don’t these people know that we old folk have enough problems without them adding to the confusion where we buy our food. I like half and half in my coffee and now they have what I guess you could call diet half and half with only five percent cream instead of ten. I don’t want diet cream in my coffee. It looks like you are using skim milk and it tastes lousy. Oh well maybe to-night when I am sleeping another time warp will occur and I will awake in the morning look around and say ‘WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED”


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