Middle Age: Mastering Denial
Approaching the half-century mark two years ago involved a lot of hand-wringing. I'm not sure what I expected, perhaps a complete and total systems failure, some sort of steep and rapid decline across all fronts. You know, what happens to anything the day after a warranty expires or a car has been paid off. Kaput—time to buy a new one. But then 50 came and went and nothing happened—at least nothing swift and sudden. That's when I started paying attention.....and panicking.
Succeeding at middle-age is really about mastering denial, shrugging off a pesky reality for as long as possible. That person staring at us every morning in the mirror? Nope, don't know him. Receding hairline? Use the blow-dryer, it fills in the gaps. Careworn bags? Moisturize. Ear and nose hair? Groom baby, groom. Forgetfulness? What was I saying?
Other middle-aged blights, however, can't be ignored or combed over. Like Gordon Lightfoot's Sundown, they've been "creepin' round my back stairs" lately and seem to be here to stay. Such as:
1. Mild arthritis - I can't properly tie my left shoe. Stella (my cat) watches in bemused silence every morning as I go through all sorts of ridiculous machinations before the damn "bunny ear pops out the hole." And I know she was laughing that time I lost my balance and fell into her litter box. True story.
2. Regularity - Who the hell do these millenials think they are with their twice daily trips to the loo? Twice a day? That's just plain arrogant. Try twice a week. Three times? Dare to dream.
3. Emotionalism - Either I have to stop watching Field of Dreams ("Hey Dad, you wanna have a catch?") or accept that more tears are the price middle-aged men pay for the slow, steady decline in testosterone production. But blubbering every time I hear Simon and Garfunkel's Sounds of Silence ("Hello darkness, my old friend...")? Don't even get me started on re-runs of Star Trek: The Next Generation. You heard me.
4. Mornings - Does anyone else my age feel mildly hungover every damn morning? I do, and with no help from alcohol. Blurred vision (even with glasses), leaky eyeballs, a god-awful taste in my mouth and a general mental fog. None of these things clear up until I've had my first cup of......oh, right—coffee. Problem solved.
5. New Music - I am completely unable to expand my musical catalog. And I accept it. Almost everything I listen to is from yesteryear. On an encouraging note: those artists from the past—their names, their song lyrics, even the years their songs were released are weirdly locked in my brain, easily recalled and badly sung. So I have that going for me, which is nice.
All kidding aside, if you're like me (and I hope you are), you love your middle age. You're smarter, you're wiser and you're so much more accepting of human folly than you used to be—probably because you've experienced more than your share of it along the way. And if you didn't, you should have. After all, what's life without a little folly?
As if this post wasn't full of enough cliches already, let me add one more—yours truly. Because tonight I am going to sway my aching hip to the music of my youth (attending a Little River Band/Ambrosia/Player concert), undoubtedly having a good cry when I hear the initial strains of that timeless LRB classic, Reminiscing.
Ugh, tomorrow is going to be a three-cup morning for sure.
Succeeding at middle-age is really about mastering denial, shrugging off a pesky reality for as long as possible. That person staring at us every morning in the mirror? Nope, don't know him. Receding hairline? Use the blow-dryer, it fills in the gaps. Careworn bags? Moisturize. Ear and nose hair? Groom baby, groom. Forgetfulness? What was I saying?
Other middle-aged blights, however, can't be ignored or combed over. Like Gordon Lightfoot's Sundown, they've been "creepin' round my back stairs" lately and seem to be here to stay. Such as:
1. Mild arthritis - I can't properly tie my left shoe. Stella (my cat) watches in bemused silence every morning as I go through all sorts of ridiculous machinations before the damn "bunny ear pops out the hole." And I know she was laughing that time I lost my balance and fell into her litter box. True story.
2. Regularity - Who the hell do these millenials think they are with their twice daily trips to the loo? Twice a day? That's just plain arrogant. Try twice a week. Three times? Dare to dream.
3. Emotionalism - Either I have to stop watching Field of Dreams ("Hey Dad, you wanna have a catch?") or accept that more tears are the price middle-aged men pay for the slow, steady decline in testosterone production. But blubbering every time I hear Simon and Garfunkel's Sounds of Silence ("Hello darkness, my old friend...")? Don't even get me started on re-runs of Star Trek: The Next Generation. You heard me.
4. Mornings - Does anyone else my age feel mildly hungover every damn morning? I do, and with no help from alcohol. Blurred vision (even with glasses), leaky eyeballs, a god-awful taste in my mouth and a general mental fog. None of these things clear up until I've had my first cup of......oh, right—coffee. Problem solved.
5. New Music - I am completely unable to expand my musical catalog. And I accept it. Almost everything I listen to is from yesteryear. On an encouraging note: those artists from the past—their names, their song lyrics, even the years their songs were released are weirdly locked in my brain, easily recalled and badly sung. So I have that going for me, which is nice.
All kidding aside, if you're like me (and I hope you are), you love your middle age. You're smarter, you're wiser and you're so much more accepting of human folly than you used to be—probably because you've experienced more than your share of it along the way. And if you didn't, you should have. After all, what's life without a little folly?
As if this post wasn't full of enough cliches already, let me add one more—yours truly. Because tonight I am going to sway my aching hip to the music of my youth (attending a Little River Band/Ambrosia/Player concert), undoubtedly having a good cry when I hear the initial strains of that timeless LRB classic, Reminiscing.
Ugh, tomorrow is going to be a three-cup morning for sure.
Made me laugh, made me cry (never having the 'advantage' of testosterone). Take most of what you're experiencing, add a year and you'll understand my suffering. :)
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