Geezin'

I’m getting older, as we all are.  In my case, it’s 50 (born in 1969).   Here are a few things I’ve noticed.  Those of you in my age bracket may relate, and those of you who are younger, here’s what you can expect.   As a male, I can’t comment on menopause, so I’ll stick with what I know.

Metabolism.   This has gone down, so I’m up at 225 lb from 200.   Moreover, exercise no longer succeeds at keeping weight down or losing it the way it used to.  The most effective way was the treadmill, but whereas I could run at up 7 mph in the past, anything past 5 mph these days causes Mr. Ankle and Mr. Knee to stridently complain.   So I’ve had to change over to bicycle and elliptical, and keeping treadmill time down to 4 to 4.5 mph, a brisk walk and not a full run.   Absent some disease eating me from the inside out, I don’t think I’ll be seeing 200 lb again in my lifetime. 

To assist in this, I’m switching out steak for chicken (e.g. Chipotle), diet drinks and green tea for full on Coke Classic, and dark chocolate for milk chocolate.  An obnoxious smoothie – apple, banana, broccoli, avocado, carrots, cabbage, celery, spinach, and kale all go into the mixer and produce something best washed down immediately with a delicious zero calorie Ice drink, preferably in black cherry flavor.  I suppose every little bit helps.

Injuries.   These are fortunately few and far between, but when they do occur they take longer to heal.  Just have to be more careful.

TMI Department, aka Mr. Happy.   He seems remarkably robust for his age, though his output is less and he’s less insistent on attention.  For the former, the urologist told me that’s normal.  For the latter, once a day is perfectly fine for him, whereas as a teenager he might be up for two or three sessions.

I read that President John Tyler, who took over from William Henry Harrison (who died in 1840) still has living grandchildren TODAY.   That was because he remained virile and fertile into his old age, as did his sons.  Biologically, men are capable of conceiving children up until they fall dead at 100.  

Memories.   I’m finding that while I can still tell you what all the Beatles, Black Sabbath, Deep Purple and Led Zeppelin albums are, tell you what songs are on each albums, and recite lyrics almost verbatim, telling you what songs are on No Comfort, the newest Monolord album – which I’ve listened to several times - is a bit of a challenge.  It looks like my brain has reached its capacity and any new memories are at the expense of old ones. 

Here’s where it gets depressing.  Say, for the sake of argument, we manage to extend our life expectancy from 100 (using a round number) to 200.   All well and fine, but if we don’t extend our memory capacity past 50 years, we can only remember 50 of those years.   Which 50 will they be?  And as we extend that life expectancy further without increasing memory capacity past 50 years, we’ll be left remembering a smaller and smaller proportion of that longer life. 

I recall some Greek myth in which Eos, goddess of the dawn, fell in love with a handsome mortal, Tithonus.  Sadly, she would live forever but he would eventually grow old and die.   So, on his behalf, she wished he could have eternal LIFE, but forgot that what she really wanted for him was eternal YOUTH.   So he kept getting older and older without dying, to the point where he shriveled up into a grasshopper.  Be careful what you ask for, you just might get it.

Predicting Lines.   A special power I seemed to have gained in my old age (such as it is) seems to be the newfound ability to predict lines in TV shows and movies – and no, I don’t mean ones I’ve seen before, or frequent catchphrases (“make it so”, “Make my day”, etc.).   It’s reached the point where I’ve been able to predict lines verbatim.  In “Two Mules for Sister Sara”, Clint Eastwood’s character escorts a nun (Shirley MacLaine) to Mexico City in the late 1860s, back when the French puppet Maximillian is on the throne – making this a rare occasion where the French are actually the bad guys.   At some point in the film, his character remarks, “I’ll bet you do” – which I predicted seconds before, word for word.  Again, this was a movie I’d never seen before.   And I’m finding that more and more often.  Not sure it’s of practical usefulness, but still interesting.

Wasting Time.  While I think of 100 as life expectancy, for me, 75 is probably a more accurate prediction given the absence of any especially long-lived uncles in my family and the age my father died at.  That means I’m already 66% through my life as it is.

I’ll save any speculation about What Comes Next for another blog.   For now I’ll bitch about wasting time.  With a third of my life left, wasting that remainder is more of a concern than it was when I was younger.  Working, sleeping, sitting on the toilet, are things I’m going to have to do anyway, so that leaves my leisure time.   I don’t think I’ll plow through “Game of Thrones” or “Breaking Bad” a second time, and I’ll hold off on starting many new TV shows, instead finishing the shows I’ve already been watching.  Beyond that I’d say I’m OK in terms of finding things to do with my spare time that I doubt I’ll regret later.

Inanimate Objects.   If there’s one area where I’m devolving into Crazy Old Man is a strange antipathy when ordinary objects suspiciously behave as though some conscious, sentient force was moving them.  A door that closes a bit too quickly; a six pack of beer in the back seat of the car which tumbles over no matter how carefully I secure it before driving home; flavored water bottles which work their way out of the shopping bag and under the car seats, apparently hiding from me.  I know none of these are likely to be caused by some unseen, intelligent force, but that doesn’t stop me from getting upset about it.