Getting Older

At 16, Justin Beiber had nothing on me.

 

       At 30 I was still managing just fine.  My hair was beginning to thin but I was still hangin' in.

46 years and I can still climb on a tank without any trouble.  It just hurts my old, flat feet more than it used to when I jump off.



As middle age rolls over me, I am becoming aware of things I saw as a younger man but never applied to myself.  Receding hairline.  See those all the time.  Never thought to see one on me.  Same for the slowly growing spare tire around the middle.  Neither have advanced so far as they might ultimately (and the latter is within my power to control) but they are part of the description of me now.

Muscle tone is slipping away.  As a young man I was a powerful engine.  185 lbs. of "twisted steel and sex appeal."  Now I am attractive more for my credit ratring than my abs.  Which brings up a few good points.....  I can buy a car with a five minute phone call to the bank.  I am sought out for advice on hard stuff like closing escrow and managing a Roth IRA.  I can address a lot of topics because "I've been there, done that."  Experience has replaced energy as the prime value I bring to a project.  I know a lot of people and can usually make a phone call and get a situation dealt with.  These are all good things that wait at the mid-way point in life.

Still, I miss my square butt, broad shoulders and washboard abs.

 I miss knowing that I could make love for hours (not that I often did, mind you).

 I miss things being in focus up close without glasses (which I can't keep track of). 

I miss running a 6 minute mile.

 I miss eating chili dogs or pizza and still sleeping soundly through the night without heartburn.

 Some things I miss, I can still get back.  Like driving fast just because.  I slowed down to save gas and protect the children I hauled in the back seat.  Now that I can drive fast again, why don't I?

I suppose I'm still able to make love to my wife every night but, dang, we're both so sore and tired from working all day, one (or both) of us would really rather just sleep.  I joke with the guys at work that the spirit is willing and the body can be coaxed (with the help of pharmacology) but I'm really just happy if the missus throws a leg over me every once in a while and does something wild for my birthday.

I miss the idea that things that happened before I was born were ancient history.  I was born in 67 and years like the Kennedy assasination in 63(?) seemed like Roman mythology when I was a kid.