Saturday, December 24, 2011

Share a cigarette with negativity...

I know, at the age of 54 that the best half of my life is gone.  It's a simple mathematical work.  I could give you great odds that I'm not going to last 105 years, and I can also safely assume that the last 25 or so of my years will be spent in some hunched-over, problematic knee pain, hard-of-hearing-lost-sight-body-fat-gaining sustenance.  It's difficult to imagine now, but unless I'm some Jack LaLanne clone I don't see it ending any differently.

I have to look back, at this point, and assess the events of the past and reflect - both negatively and positively - on their impact. This isn't some New Year's resolution-type thing, just random junk ...

My gym is filled with 50-something year-old guys with tattoos and unsightly body hair.  It's what makes me wonder what guys find appealing in other guys.  I find nothing appealing about hairy asses and paunches - but reasonable men may differ.

So there's that.  And I'm left to wonder about my future.  I find 30 year-old women appealing, but the appeal is not reciprocal.  I'm working hard, trying to stay in shape, but the 50s are creeping in.  I think 30-something's find 20-something's appealing, and therein lies the conflict.

I'm not sure we'll ever match up sexually.  It's sad really.  There isn't a lot of appeal in us old guys.  We don't get any random "Hey, nice shirt" comments from girls anymore.  I started shaving my head in the mid-1990s, when it wasn't fashionable [self back-pat] and I used to get a lot of requests from beautiful young women to touch it, as though I was some sort of bald Buddah that they had to touch, or else their lives would be meaningless.  I obliged.

Now, every jackass is shaving and it isn't such a big deal anymore.  What really offends me is when I see guys with otherwise full heads of hair shaving for the mere sake of it. That's a violation.  I feel like I was part of a 1960s music revolution and jerks like the Beach Boys took advantage of my good work. Hey, pay your dues, then let the girls rub your head.

Meanwhile, I'm stuck in gym locker rooms with elderly guys who have lost track of the fact that their junk has migrated south with gravity.  Their hanging testicles look like Chinese lanterns, they wander around with (apparently) no idea of what they are displaying in public.  As for me, I turn my back on men when I change pants and I can't imagine displaying anything significant in front of them. But, I have a sense of self-awareness that escapes most people.  Like those guys who wear shorts and sandals (with socks) when they should be covering their bony knees and hammer toes.

So, to you men who are wandering around with your junk hanging out, let this be your word of warning ... "None of us wants to see it" - and I think I can speak for everyone.  We don't want to watch you scoop up your testicles and deposit them in your underpants.  We don't need to see your hairy ass and rotund, furry abdomen on display.  It isn't interesting in the least.  You are better off finding a secluded corner of the locker room and dressing in private, because your privates deserve that.

It could be your New Year's Resolution.  Please.

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