Jim Follis
Please don't let me get old
Published on Wed, Apr 28, 2010 by Jim FollisRead More Follis
I'm never going to let myself get old. I'm never going to let myself get old, I'm never ....
What? What? Are you saying it's too late? Come over here and say that, you whippersnapper! I can whip and snap you before you even can tell me who's president of the United States.
Oh, sure, that's an old expression, too, right?
Man, I better sit down; my heart is really a-pumping. Why do those kids make such fun of us old windbags? If it weren't for us, they wouldn't even be, now would they?
Sounding like Dad
What really troubles me is that I hear myself sounding a lot like my dad and even my grandfather.
They used to squawk about the cocky young guys who thought they knew it all. I'd hear them complaining about how the world was about to go to hell in a handbasket.
I'm here to tell you though, my generation is different. We're not whining or whimpering about getting older. You won't hear us lounging around comparing scars or prescriptions.
No sir, no laxative slammers for us. We'll take ours straight up or on the rocks or plain. We're real men with young minds (in artistically weathered bodies).
Some of my best friends ...
Men of color - that would be guys with pink bald spots surrounded by gray hair, yellow teeth, purple shirt, white belt and shoes - all act the same. Don't get me wrong. Some of my best friends are old duffers.
What happens genetically that causes old guys to start getting hung up on what day it was?
"Let's see, was it Tuesday or Wednesday, no I believe it was Friday that Mabel, no, pardon me, it was Monday two weeks ago Tuesday that Mabel had her nails done, yeah, that's right."
Who gives a rat's posterior? Spit it out and get on with the next story before I shut off my hearing aid, and you, too.
Please don't let me ever get old behind the wheel. Who says old folks are too cautious behind the wheel? Pulling out in front of me at 3 mph when I'm doing 70 is gutsy, not cautious.
Unspoken conversation
One of the scariest things about getting older is how old men's posteriors break loose and somehow slip around to the front.
It's got to be virtually impossible to keep your pants up in a situation like this. It's like tying a rope around a beach ball - how do you do it?
Perhaps the most frightening aspect of getting older is knowing that you have been married so long to your partner that you need not even speak to communicate pretty much all you had to say.
Are you with me? Just watch a pair of seasoned citizens at breakfast (married 40 years, 12 grandkids, retired twice, changed careers six times, moved 23 times too often ....)
Choose your lecture
The man orders the same ol' eggs-over-easy. He lifts his eyes to scan for the salt but can't find it because his wife has anticipated his question and has placed it under his elbow.
She begins to suggest that he might consider oatmeal once in a while and he heads her off by pointing to the Tabasco sauce that he never uses except to divert his wife's impending lecture.
Her look that says, "You know, Harold, that hot sauce gives you heartburn all day," saves him from the egg lecture but falls back on the no-salt lecture. She never utters a word but merely casts a dour look upon the guilty saltshaker.
Renew our vows
The real pain of getting older is
the utter dichotomy of everyday survival.
If I'm getting older and can't be allowed to climb Half Dome or Storm King by myself, how can you ask me to climb to the top of our 12-12 pitch roof to remortar the chimney or hang the bloomin' Christmas lights?
The kid won't take me golfing with him because he's afraid that I'll hold him back, but he doesn't think twice about expecting me to help him pack his side-by-side refrigerator down three flights of stairs and carry his sleeper sofa clear across town.
Is this sufficient evidence for another conspiracy investigation? Young men, let's unite and stick up for our rights to not grow old.
Let's vow never to eat oatmeal, never to say "Yes Ma'am" to our wives and never to take an afternoon nap every day without fail.
Truthfully now that I am old, I have discovered that age is more a frame of mind. I have very old younger friends and many older friends who are quite young.
Jim Follis is a retired school administrator, has published two books and currently writes three newspaper columns. Eating, drinking and making merry are his professed hobbies. Traveling, trekking and observing people follow not far behind.
What? What? Are you saying it's too late? Come over here and say that, you whippersnapper! I can whip and snap you before you even can tell me who's president of the United States.
Oh, sure, that's an old expression, too, right?
Man, I better sit down; my heart is really a-pumping. Why do those kids make such fun of us old windbags? If it weren't for us, they wouldn't even be, now would they?
Sounding like Dad
What really troubles me is that I hear myself sounding a lot like my dad and even my grandfather.
They used to squawk about the cocky young guys who thought they knew it all. I'd hear them complaining about how the world was about to go to hell in a handbasket.
I'm here to tell you though, my generation is different. We're not whining or whimpering about getting older. You won't hear us lounging around comparing scars or prescriptions.
No sir, no laxative slammers for us. We'll take ours straight up or on the rocks or plain. We're real men with young minds (in artistically weathered bodies).
Some of my best friends ...
Men of color - that would be guys with pink bald spots surrounded by gray hair, yellow teeth, purple shirt, white belt and shoes - all act the same. Don't get me wrong. Some of my best friends are old duffers.
What happens genetically that causes old guys to start getting hung up on what day it was?
"Let's see, was it Tuesday or Wednesday, no I believe it was Friday that Mabel, no, pardon me, it was Monday two weeks ago Tuesday that Mabel had her nails done, yeah, that's right."
Who gives a rat's posterior? Spit it out and get on with the next story before I shut off my hearing aid, and you, too.
Please don't let me ever get old behind the wheel. Who says old folks are too cautious behind the wheel? Pulling out in front of me at 3 mph when I'm doing 70 is gutsy, not cautious.
Unspoken conversation
One of the scariest things about getting older is how old men's posteriors break loose and somehow slip around to the front.
It's got to be virtually impossible to keep your pants up in a situation like this. It's like tying a rope around a beach ball - how do you do it?
Perhaps the most frightening aspect of getting older is knowing that you have been married so long to your partner that you need not even speak to communicate pretty much all you had to say.
Are you with me? Just watch a pair of seasoned citizens at breakfast (married 40 years, 12 grandkids, retired twice, changed careers six times, moved 23 times too often ....)
Choose your lecture
The man orders the same ol' eggs-over-easy. He lifts his eyes to scan for the salt but can't find it because his wife has anticipated his question and has placed it under his elbow.
She begins to suggest that he might consider oatmeal once in a while and he heads her off by pointing to the Tabasco sauce that he never uses except to divert his wife's impending lecture.
Her look that says, "You know, Harold, that hot sauce gives you heartburn all day," saves him from the egg lecture but falls back on the no-salt lecture. She never utters a word but merely casts a dour look upon the guilty saltshaker.
Renew our vows
The real pain of getting older is
the utter dichotomy of everyday survival.
If I'm getting older and can't be allowed to climb Half Dome or Storm King by myself, how can you ask me to climb to the top of our 12-12 pitch roof to remortar the chimney or hang the bloomin' Christmas lights?
The kid won't take me golfing with him because he's afraid that I'll hold him back, but he doesn't think twice about expecting me to help him pack his side-by-side refrigerator down three flights of stairs and carry his sleeper sofa clear across town.
Is this sufficient evidence for another conspiracy investigation? Young men, let's unite and stick up for our rights to not grow old.
Let's vow never to eat oatmeal, never to say "Yes Ma'am" to our wives and never to take an afternoon nap every day without fail.
Truthfully now that I am old, I have discovered that age is more a frame of mind. I have very old younger friends and many older friends who are quite young.
Jim Follis is a retired school administrator, has published two books and currently writes three newspaper columns. Eating, drinking and making merry are his professed hobbies. Traveling, trekking and observing people follow not far behind.
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