Aging for the Unaware

Aging has been a surprise, a bonus, a door prize for not dying. It hasn’t been painless, and it wasn’t always easy. But, I can’t really take any credit for it. Oh, sure, I kept breathing, but I don’t remember ever actively exercising my right to breathe, it just happened, like most of my life, I didn’t really have any input. I’m still sitting in the audience. 

I was supposed to have a colonoscopy a couple of years ago, one of those humiliating, uncomfortable preventative procedures that are supposed to help doctors help you stay alive. But, they couldn’t perform the procedure, I had an irregular heartbeat, atrial fibrillation, and that was enough to cancel their plans. 

There was no colonoscopy that day, but I had to go to the emergency room, out of the frying pan…

Emergency rooms are strange places, with winding hallways and strange rooms, with shabby, rundown curtains, to keep everybody from watching them take blood, and record a persons vitals. Most of the time I was an innocent bystander, a detached observer. 

As the morning gave way to the afternoon, nothing changed in the emergency room, I was laying in an uncomfortable bed, with wires and machines attached to my chest, and an IV needle taped to my arm. It was a monotony, a drab, colorless box, with no entrance or exit, it was a world that existed independent of reality, apart, separate from the colors, scenery and diversity of the university campus surrounding the building. Just outside the bleak walls was a Panera Bagels, Buckeye Donuts, Apollo’s Greek Kitchen (since closed), myriad fast food shops, coffee kiosks, and small, delightful cafes. And I was stuck in a room, in a maze, trapped by nursed, doctors, orderlies and wandering, armed security guards. I was starving, I hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since supper the night before. 

Hours became abstract, an ancient method used to measure the passages of life. Time didn’t change in the emergency room. Every minute was the same as the one just passed. Light didn’t travel, it just sat, gloomy, puddling around the stern, uncaring fixtures, and sparse, mean furniture. 

It was almost a pleasant distraction when a nurse, or doctor would pull thecurtain aside and step into the room. Anything was an improvement. But, they would ask a few questions, look at one of the machines and type out something on the omnipotent computer, and just that quickly they were gone. I was left with my poor wife, sitting politely in a barely tolerable chair, and  O. Henry, whose short stories were almost perfect in such a bizarre setting. 

Eventually, they sent me home with a turkey sandwich, a cup of coffee, and three new prescriptions, two medicines designed to regulate my heart rhythm, a blood thinner and the solemn, serious, scary advice, “Don’t get in a car accident.” 

Since then I’ve gone in and out atrial fibrillation, they warned me it might/could/would happen, and I’ve had four cardioversion’s and two atrial ablations. I feel good, I’ve felt good the whole time. But, they tell me a lot of people who live through this suffer from sour effects, dizziness, exhaustion, shortness of breath, so I consider myself lucky. At the same time I consider myself cursed.

For the first time in my life I am left facing my own doom, feeling the end closing in. Sure, there were moments where the I feared the final curtain may have been dropping. A robbery in a liquor store, a collapsing construction scaffold, a half dozen drug and alcohol fueled extravaganzas, but they passed, and I was comfortable in my immortality again. Perhaps, more so from the narrow, and absolutely cowardly display of self preservation I could exhibit. 

Now, I watch commercials for ailments that prey on old people. Eye diseases, heart diseases, stomach, liver, lung, blood, and all the attachments and supporting pieces and parts are wearing out. There is an ache that I can’t feel, it’s a sense, a worry, waiting for the right moment to announce itself. 

My sister made me a cross-stitch, with a turtle laying on it’s back, the inscription read, “If I’d known I was going to live this long I would have taken better care of myself.” I look at that, and I wonder if I would have been smart enough. I doubt it, I was having fun, and I never would have believed I would be walking through my 66th year with a resting heart rate of 46 BPM and a “29.7% double support time.” I’m a victim of my own success, and the hearty genetics of my immigrant grandparents. 

If you’ve found yourself on the other side of the spectrum, I toast your health, and if you have any advice on dealing with the trials of aging, please let me know. 

 

My Doctor, What a Good Kid.

I walk at lunch, usually, the magic number is 10,000 steps. A number I chase with the zeal of Jonathon Harker pursuing Vlad Dracula. Rain, cold, heat, wind, it doesn’t matter. Sore foot, swollen ankle, tendinitis in the knee, doesn’t matter, I drag them around downtown. I am almost sixty years old, another number that seems to have mystic properties.

My wife gave me a Fitbit for Christmas, and it is addictive. I will walk past a perfectly good elevator to climb the stairs. After a couple of flights I will almost collapse on the landing, Darth Vader sounds echoing up and down the stairwell. But, my Fitbit will buzz with delight, even as my life is fading away on the last few steps before the floor where we keep the coffee maker. An aroma of dark, hot, liquid beauty is the only thing that keeps me going.

My doctors keep getting younger, children, really, like my sons, I want to ask them if they need a few dollars, maybe a gift card for the gas station. The newest version is barely out of school. He looks back and forth from the computer screen to me, and make noises, tsks, sighs, and almost silent groans. I miss the days of clipboards and paper. There was some permanence, something tangible about the rigid plastic board and the shiny chrome clip locking down the crisp, clean paper. Now my life and health have been reduced to a series of zeroes and ones scrolling across an LCD screen. A video game with me as the hero, chasing eternity through a minefield of health hazards, problems associated with aging and a diet rich in deliciousness.

At some point my doctor, who looks so innocent, young, childlike will start talking about test results. Not his test results from algebra, English literature, biology, no my test results. Eventually he will tell me, in all seriousness, my numbers are too high, or too low, and I need to lower or raise my LDL and my HDL to reach another magic number. But, it is a number that seems arbitrary, impossible, changing. A moving target I’ve been chasing for years. In fact, without my numbers changing too much I have become “at risk” because their numbers change so much.

And then he will ask that dreaded question, “How often do you take your medicine?” A chill will run up my spine, and my grip will tighten on the padded exam table. I will look away in shame, humiliated. Breathing will become difficult, and my face will turn warm, uncomfortable, crimson with guilt.

“Most of the time.” I say. “Some of the time.” I add. “Once in a while,” I croak.

My doctor, who might be in middle school, will look around the computer screen separating us, and he will take a deep breath. I wonder how his skin is so clear, how free of acne, I wish my skin could have looked so remarkable when I was so young. 

“Mr. Clark, Tim, do you mind if I call you Tim?” He won’t wait for an answer. “Tim, you and I are a team, and you are not doing your part. I write the prescriptions and you take them and we can hit that magic number. We can make sure you live a long and healthy life.”

It’s already been pretty long, I will think. In fact the last five minutes have been an eternity. But, I will say “I know, Doctor. I will do better.”

He will smile and talk about my weight, and he will give me a goal, a number of pounds I need to lose, a magic number that will make him happy. And I want to make him happy, he is nice, and has a long life ahead of him, and if you have something to smile about the years seem so much better.

And, that is the real magic. Happiness given is happiness received. My doctor makes me happy with all of his concern, his care, his admonishment. I make him happy by promising to eat more vegetables, take my medicine and lose some weight. We both walk away feeling good about ourselves. We are a team, sort of.

Living Longer, Through Stubbornness

OK, I'm getting older, I know, it is obvious. It takes longer to get everything moving in the morning. Things hurt more, and the reminders of past stupidity hound me through small annoyances, I limp, and it is difficult to reach down to tie my shoes. My fingers are numb on odd occasions. Without my glasses the world is fuzzy, strange, and alien. I have gone from needing them to read to needing them, and didn't even notice.

But, I am trying, I go to the gym, I lift weights until my muscles ache. I rock and roll my way through painful, breathless torment on the elliptical machine. I exercise, I chase my 10,000 steps with the stubborn single mindedness of Ahab. Slogging, limping through summer heat, and winter cold, rain, snow, sleet, the postal service has nothing on me.

I can tell you about the pleasures of adding fresh spinach to a tossed salad. I can tell you the best way to cut a tomato with the dull flat steel slabs we call knives at work. I know, through repeated lectures and warnings, the value of low dose aspirin, fish oil and multi vitamins.

I am trying. Still, my weight hovers between making my doctor furious, and making him weep in frustration.

Then, you see the headline marching across Facebook, Twitter, and Google Plus. "Why exercise and diet might not be enough." Dammit!!!

What do I have to do? Start cutting off limbs? Is this what Poe was trying to tell us when he wrote Eldorado? "Ride boldly ride, the shade replied..." if you want to lose a few pounds. Or, just sit there and stew in your morbid depression. Either way, it isn't going to help, fatso.

I don't even read those articles. Maybe I should, maybe there will be some magic, some fat burning alchemy. Go back in time using honey, vinegar and ground pepper. A new, smaller, healthier you, with the addition of olive oil and soy milk. Nothing is ever that easy, though.

Maybe I will write an article, "tell your doctor you're not that bad." or "diet and exercise, do you really need both?" Followed quickly by "two kinds of cheese and bacon, the burger of your dreams." Maybe, "beer, and bourbon, you can have it all."

I think it is time we had a voice, those of us who are trying. I think we need a magazine, "We Are Doing Ok, Thanks for asking." If you are interested in being a contributor please let me know. Email me at tweettweetjohn@yahoo,com.

Thank you.

Aging, Memories, and The Application of Filters.

I have often chafed at nostalgia, the fond remembrance of days long past. There was no golden age of my life. I was an awful student, indifferent to the point of apathy. When I wasn't completely invisible it was because someone wanted to take the time to ridicule me. Teachers, in all fairness, tried to help me find the way, but it would have taken two, and they were flying solo. There is no animosity, these problems were self inflicted.

I have always relished being an outsider, sometimes it gets a little lonely. However, it is so much easier than holding up my end of a conversation. No matter what the topic sooner or later it will run dry and the circular references echoing front to back and side to side will have gone on for far too many minutes. Invariably fading to an uncomfortable, awkward silence. Eventually, without fail, I will stutter something vaguely rude, and just short of complete stupidity. And we will both walk away thinking "What the hell did that mean?"

Looking back it would be easy to think life was bleak, and nothing ever worked out quite right. Aging though, creates a sort of memory specific myopia. The farther back the gaze the better things look, or the less bad, anyway.

If I were to write the history of my life it would probably be represented as being a lot more interesting than it was. Sort of "alternative facts" for the sake of self respect.

Looking at it that way nostalgia makes perfect sense. Certainly things could not have always been this bad. And even if they were, or God forbid, if they were worse, well, memory can play tricks on people. Nostalgia is a local anastecia for the soul, or at least the sanity. If I remember myself as a sort of James Bond who was the first person to perform a successful heart transplant where is the harm?

What is the point of this? I don't really remember, I was too busy thinking about the time I stopped the evil villain from destroying the world, while calculating the largest prime number. Man, I was something.

Living, aging, and cursing about it.

Aging is a funny thing👴. Not the kind of funny thing that makes you laugh. the funny that makes you sigh. Years of hard work, and toil, all to reach old age. Modern medicine helps us live longer, and longer, at hideous expense. And here is the crazy part, the real cost is not in monetary terms, it is the dignity surrendered. 

I was at breakfast with some people who were right around my age, maybe a little older, but the relative age is not important. What is important is; we were sitting around discussing arthritis, invasive, humiliating medical procedures, and the cost of prescriptions. And we all had very strong opinions on each. And a generous amount of experience to have formed those opinions.

We were at a local veterans organization. they have a breakfast deal that can not be beat. And it was filled with people our age or older. And it struck me how, while still vibrant, working and enjoying life, how many procedures had been foisted upon these people.

Many of these people had labored all their life, carrying bricks, or pouring concrete, stocking grocery shelves, or driving trucks. Now every checkup is a roll of the dice. I am all for living longer, and death terrifies me, I salute Heller's Dunbar who planned "to live forever or die in the attempt."  

Now my knee is sore, it stiffens when I sit too long, but I am too afraid to call the doctor. What if he finds something awful. Even if he doesn't there will be tests, and lectures and blood pressure cuffs, and all the ailments of getting older. Dammit!!! 

And this guy is like a kid, wearing some sort of skater shoes, and whatever else kids are wearing these days. While I am on my way to support stockings and a knee brace, if I'm lucky enough to keep my leg. Oh life, why are you such a miserable companion?

Well, I sure feel better now. Thanks, you are the greatest.

Aging for dummies, like me.

Aging is a disgusting habit. Yes, my doctor was all thrilled when I quit smoking, not one word about the negative effects of getting older. He was thrilled when I started going to the gym and exercising, but not one comment on how much time was dragging me down. "Eating vegetables, great idea, but maybe you should try not growing old so quickly."

It is getting hard to see things without my glasses. Our optometrist explained that it was a side effect from aging, your eyes lose their elasticity, or the shape changes or something, I don't really remember.

It is getting harder to remember things. Obviously, this was never a strength, but recently it is a habit, an addiction. Find out something important, better write it down, now where did I put that pen, and is that a note pad over by the refrigerator? Hey, as long as I am at the fridge might as well make a sandwich, grab a pop. What was I going to do again? Oh yeah, have a sandwich.

And it had better be something with some food value, because there is no bouncing back from empty calories anymore. Eating it adds the pounds and they are there forever. A slowing metabolism guarantees anything above subsistence food will still be there next doctor visit. And he hates a few extra pounds. Exercise doesn't help, it hurts.

Oh, sure, I hit the gym routinely. Now though, it has started hitting back. Huge, crushing body blows, filled with malice, and anger, leave me reeling in breathless pain, as I climb onto the treadmill and hold tight. Just hoping it won't throw me off the back of the machine in sobbing pile of ancient, broken humanity.

And through it all they say, "How are the golden years, Tim? Bastards, anyway.

All Right Life, its You and Me in a Cosmic Game of Go Fish #FixThePlus!

"People try to put us down

Just because we get around."

The Who, My Generation.

We probably don't get around as well as we used to, and certainly don't look as good in bell bottoms and ponytails.* And, we are more careful about what we eat. But slowing down is not stopping.

I still feel the power of life burning inside. Waking up, and clawing my way to my first cup is still easy enough. The day is waiting for me, and it is mine to take, or leave as I see fit. 

Occasionally regret will cloud the landscape, but that serves to remind, think things through, mistakes, once made, can not be unmade. Use your mind to make your way instead of repair it.  My past was a gas, I had a lot of fun, a lot. But, that is the ancient history, and reckless days are better left there. It is the future that excites me. 

Somehow, it seems, and maybe this is naivete slipping through the granite like facade, my best days lie ahead. There are many things to accomplish, many victories to claim. 

Aging is fine, giving up is not. So what if the president, and my doctor are younger. It doesn't matter, there are still mountains to climb, metaphorically speaking of course. Climbing mountains is for those brave foolish souls who don't want to get to this age.

John Paul Jones said "I have not yet begun to fight." And though fighting is dangerous, I am still doing my damnedest to wrestle life to a draw, still feeling good about things. I am still a "screaming diz buster."** I am still playing by my rules, though now the rules involve more sleeping and a lot more vegetables, along with trips to the gym, and drinking a lot of water.  Take that home with you Life.

We are not the older generation, we are the better generation. Who's with me?

* I never looked good with a pony tail. I have the worlds worst toupee, and it is my own hair. It is thick, filled with knots and recalcitrant. It does what it wants, which is never what I want. But I did look good in bell bottoms. No, I looked ridiculous, but was too young to know.

**Whatever the hell that is.

Growing Old? No, Time to Start Living!

Life is kind of odd these days. It is one thing after another, change, evolution, progress. Mountains of new piling up, and it can be a little intimidating. But, it can also be refreshing, exhilarating, fun, and life changing. Aging is best done moving forward.

Technology is getting more accessible and easier with every incarnation. Take advantage of that. Voice recognition makes sending a text as easy as pushing a button, talking into a phone, and saying "ok." A friend told me "I am not going to talk to my phone." Why not, are you afraid you will look silly? Who cares, life is a game, and if you have lived this long you are definitely winning. Besides standing there, for an eternity, trying to tap out a simple message pretty much screams "HEY, LOOK AT ME, I'M OLD!" Embrace change, learn everything you can about how they are improving things, and take advantage of every opportunity. There are many rewards to expanding your world through the world wide web.

With this new technology find new friends, new interests, new hobbies. Join Facebook, start a blog, get active in forums or groups that interest you. I have more friends now than ever in my life, and most of them I have never met. They are scattered from New York, to New Hampshire, to Germany, to Great Britain, to Kuwait, New Zealand, India, all over the place. It has made me a better person, it has made me understand there are more things that unite us than anybody in power wants to admit. And it should be shouted from the mountain.

A healthy diet is the best place to start your battle against the ravages of time. Living this long has taken a toll, sure, but there is no reason to let age win. Eating a healthy diet, high in fiber, will provide numerous health benefits to get through each day. Here is a handy chart explaining the many benefits of eating a high fiber diet.

Make a point to exercise. Don't tell yourself your back is sore, or your knees hurt, or you are too tired. Just get up, get moving. The best remedy for most ailments is activity. At first you will try to talk yourself into being more sedentary, but after a few weeks you will start looking forward to the experience. It becomes a reward. Exercise is the key to living better.

Look, aging is a little scary, but it is a reward for living. Treat yourself with the respect you deserve. You can either accept the cruel punishments of time, or you can stand up, walk away from the inertia of aging and kick the livin' crap out of stereotypes, it is up to you. I think we both know what the best choice is. See you at the gym!

Your pal,

Tim

Caution, Preachy Advice Ahead. It is what old people do.

Everything old is new again. Great but it does not really apply to people. We age, and then we age some more, and it just doesn't get any easier. At some point we have to decide that aging is going to win, it always does, but we are not going to go without a fight. We will "not go gentle into that good night."*

Whatever you have to do should become second nature. Eating healthier is the best place to start. My diet follows this profound advice.  I eat vegetables with every meal. Sometimes for lunch I will just bring a can of diced tomatoes, throw in a little salsa, some pepper, and I am good for the whole afternoon. It is so easy, which makes it perfect for a simpleton like me. There are so many options, though, just find one and follow it.

Exercise, start small, and go. I follow this blog, and its accompanying You Tube Channel. And it has put me over the top. Jeremy Crow is very helpful, and will patiently answer questions to  help get you started. In fact, I recently joined a real gym, and got four free sessions with a personal trainer, and found out from following his instructions I had "perfect form," and was "doing everything right." It is a valuable resource, and sometimes it is pretty darned funny, too.  Anything you choose to do is good, just choose something and start.

Walk past the elevator and take the stairs. Elevators are filled with people who are too lazy to walk up a couple of flights of steps. Don't fall in with them. Blaze a trail, take the stairs, Make that your motto.

Drink water, it is cheap, delicious, and the healthiest drink ever invented. Add some ice, drink it down, you will be happy you did. Of course, don't forget a cup of coffee, and tea occasionally, those are so good for you. Moderation is the key, but a little is great.

Make living better your goal. If you smoke quit, if you drink, well I drink so if you want advice about that you need to go somewhere else. A little bourbon on the rocks is a gift from the heavens, moderation is everything, though.

Don't fret about living longer, fight to live better. We are all working for the same thing. If you have any tips I would love to hear them.  Thank you, all my youthful, exuberant friends, no matter the years you have collected.



*Thank you, Dylan Thomas.

Aging, several different views.

Getting older is not easy. You slow down a little, things hurt more, and the pain last longer. Grey hair is wiry, difficult to control, and starts to grow in places that you don't expect. You start to worry about little things, and these little annoyances can wake you up in the night, which is ok, because things are starting to ache, and you should roll over, anyway. But, what is important is that you never grow too old to enjoy life.

Life is a myriad of experiences, and you have to get out and enjoy them. When I hit fifty I joined AARP. Why, who knows, who cares. It was a moment of pride, I made it to fifty, eat my dust you young punks. You should look this good when you get here. And you won't if you keep putting all of those holes in your head and tattoos all over your body. What the hell were you thinking anyway? Sorry, I got sidetracked there.

We should embrace our maturity, but not let it consume you. It should not drive you into an easy chair with a bag of chips, a bowl of dip, and a soda pop poured over big glass of ice, binge watching weeks worth of River Monsters, Monster Quest, and Monster stuff that I can't think of right now. But, if you are going to do that make sure you use both hands to lift the drink, you don't want to cramp. Fresh air and exercise is important, but expanding your consciousness and intellect through educational programming is important, too.

Take advantage of the cool fall days to get outside and recharge your batteries. Take a walk in a local park. It is an ideal time to see life in all the glory, from the annoying chirping, skittering wildlife to the irritating families walking through the area with the squeaking, squawking kids, and pets, and all that laughing, and smiling, and enjoying, and making a nuisance of themselves in the silent wonder of natural beauty... Maybe a park is not such a good idea for people our age.

This was all a little joke. Life is for living, and we have a lot of experience living it, we have lived the heck out of it. And we have a lot to share, don't let a few aches and pains stop you.

It is still a wonderful world and we are a vibrant, beautiful part of it. Let's get out there and live. I am heading out in the world today. I hope you are too. I will tell you about my day, and would love to hear about yours.

Aging Gracelessly Is OK.

Most times I feel pretty young. Certainly not 56, which is my age. When I look in the mirror there  is an old man looking back. Every year is etched into the lines carved by a reality that I am not ready to face. So, we have made a deal, reality and I.

I will exercise more, eat more fruit and vegetables, drink more water, switch from coffee to tea after a couple of cups, be a lot nicer to people and try to have a happier outlook.

In return I can still fixate on something, (Ghenghis Khan, for example) and spend hours researching, and discussing it.* Which brings up a point that can not be made often enough, there need to be more decent history podcasts. I have only managed to find a few really good series. I am going to make a list and put it on the The Tech Whacko Blog. And now you have something to anticipate, isn't that fortunate.

Also, for about three days, at some point midway between haircuts, the rapidly encroaching grey in my hair, and the remaining black reach harmony, and my hair looks great. I look in the mirror, and don't even notice the ancient face staring back at me, (whoever he is he follows me everywhere). All I see is this fabulous looking hair, it doesn't even need combed. It just arranges itself into perfection.  The rest of the time it morphs into the worst looking toupee in all of Ohio, and it isn't even a toupee.

Doctor Dawg smokin' hot thanks to Fused by Tiger Tree Apps.** 

Further, I still get to obsess over my latest photo manipulation app. By the way, I downloaded one this morning, so read about it soon, on the Tech Whacko Blog. Here, I should thank Stanley the Work Dog, who poses so well for pictures, and has really added a much needed boost to my blogging life.

Plus, I get to plan for my big kayak or canoe purchase. It is still up in the air which one it will be, but the decision making, the research, the terrible, overwhelming, crushing  analysis is where all the fun is, and it gives us something to talk about, and my wife loves that.

Getting older can be awful, the aches and pains of the years, coupled with the debilitating doubts of youth magnified by decades of decisions, and observance, take a toll.But if you go about it correctly, have a smart phone, a local gym and a decent library, and a dog friend at work, it ain't so bad.

Looking back over this miserable, self absorbed post now would be a good time to apologize, there are so many I's in this post, and I (there it is again) promised myself (I, me, myself, man what an egomaniac) that this wouldn't happen, but it did, and changing it now would be too much work, and it is time to switch to tea. So, please pretend this is about somebody else.


* I would like to thank my wife for years of enduring pointless drivel, recounted endlessly, in tiring, obsessive detail. You have been a true champ. And, to a lesser extent, my co-workers who listen, but not so patiently.

** While Tiger Tree Apps are great, and used often they would be that much better if they paid Life Explained a pittance for the endorsement.

Another reality altering idea from Life Explained, well, not just life explained.

We here, at Life Explained, explains aging, are excited to announce a crowd funding campaign, give generously. Today we kick off the "Advanced Age Driver System."  We are collaborating with +maddyathome, a very smart person, to introduce this life saving device.* The Aging Driver Indicator Device."**

Essentially, it will be a blinking light attached to the side of the car.  When the aging driver starts the car he or she will push a lever, maybe it could be attached to the steering column, and a light will begin to blink.  It will blink, no matter which direction the wise driver intends to go, in the same fashion until the car is turned off. It might be wired to come on automatically, experienced, wise people have a lot on their minds and should not get mired in small details.

This signal can send a message to other drivers that the person operating the car is an seasoned, well experienced driver that feels no need to impress others by driving fast, or going the speed limit, or watching for other drivers.

As an additional precaution listen for the audio indicator, if they are singing along in off key accompaniment of a Little Richard song, maybe "Long Tall Sally," even screeching painfully through the high notes, and tapping their hands on the wheel when the guy starts wailing on the sax, until they are so wrapped up in the music they don't notice the light has turned green it is safe to figure they need to catch their breath, that guy could really sing fast.

Or, they might have forgot where they were headed. It might not be a bad idea to give them a gentle reminder.  Here is a list of possible suggestions (both good and bad) based on the time of day. Or they might have fallen asleep, is that so bad?

If you get behind someone with their life saving aging driver alert engaged give them a wide berth, and go around them. Remember, no matter where you are going, they have already been there, punk.


*When we say "collaborating", we mean "we stole the idea," and the legal department feels we can reduce the risk of a lawsuit if we give her prominent credit in the introduction.  And the footnote "Way to go Maddy!"

** If this post sounds remarkably like the last post it is because I am a little older.  What do you expect?

Know your rights.

Today we are going to discuss one of the more embarrassing issues of aging, one of those things that nobody really wants to discuss. We are going to examine one of those awful, hideous side affects of living a long, happy, moderately successful life. If you are squeamish you might want to go read something else, maybe something about how my other blog has been nominated for an award (thank you Mike, you are truly a real guy and as soon as I can get over my pretest nausea I will answer the questions).  That's right, we are going to discuss driving with your blinker on, constantly.

Don't forget to check your blinker fluid every
week.  Use only authentic Acme Blinker Fluid.

Sure, it isn't easy, most cars these days have little warning beeps, or buzzes, or something to alert you that the blinker has been on since you merged into traffic in Tennessee, and that was three and a half states ago. One sure fire method of overwhelming that little auditory nuisance is putting on some classic rock and blasting it loud enough to rattle the windows.

Don't let any of those snotty nosed, wet behind the ears, no nothing punks tell you that Judas Priest or Metallica are classic rock, just hit them with your cane, and move on. We know classic rock means Credence Clearwater Revival, or Janis Joplin, maybe the Doors, or possibly Buffalo Springfield.    There is no better way to drown out that annoying little "ding, ding, ding" than you and Neil Young singing;

"In a while will the smile

on my face

turn to plaster?

Stick around while the clown

who is sick

does the trick of disaster

For the race of my head

and my face

is moving much faster

Is it strange I should change?

I don't know,

why don't you ask her?"

At the top of your lungs, together, almost in harmony, or not, who cares, man they don't write 'em like that anymore.

But, remember, you are getting older, you have lived through a lot, and driving around, with your blinker on, all the time is your right.  Sooner or later you will turn, this way you are a few steps ahead of the game.

Grow old gracefully, or belligerently, just make sure you grow old.

Today we are going to discuss growing old gracefully.  My advice, as an expert on aging, do it, or don't do it, just keep getting older, that is the main thing.  To quote Dylan Thomas;

"Do not go gentle into that good night.
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

Mr. Thomas was trying to convince his father to keep getting older.  But, if he knew you, as well as we do, his advice would have been the same.

This is not to say you should have expensive, painful, unnecessary surgery or inject toxins into your face. Though, if you want to that is your business, and ok with us, here at Life Explained.

I would most definitely pass on almost any surgery.  Dangerous, invasive, and sometimes fatal procedures are generally not something I opt for.  If they said to me "you could have surgery or die," it would require some thought.  Once I fainted having a wart cut off my thumb, my doctor said there was a medical condition that caused people to faint in situations of that type.  "It is called being a wuss," he said.  A difficult argument to counter.

But, if you feel surgery is your best option for combating aging, by all means, sign on the dotted line.  Not the dotted line they will draw on your face, the lines on the several pages of legal documents you will have thrust in your direction.

My method of fighting aging has been multiple and mostly painless, and involved no scalpels.  Here are the steps;

1. Quit smoking, dying is a great way to keep from aging but there are others.  Smoking makes you look older, sound older, probably because it ages you faster so you are older.  If you smoke you should stop, no matter what, no matter how.
2. Eat right, eating fruit and vegetables is a great way to feel better.  You will have more energy, and lose a little weight, and they taste good.  Well, not all of them taste good to everybody, but there are so many choices everybody can find something they like, try them all.  You can still have some pizza or cookies, or cake, or ice cream, or beer, or a bratwurst, or cheeseburger, without some of  those things once in a while who wants to get older.  Eat smarter, feel better, you can thank me later.
3. Exercise, walk, take the stairs.  I joined a gym, and it is great.  But if that isn't for you, there are resistance bands that fold up and store in a closet.  Dumb bells are small, and easy to use and store.  Ride a bike, start jogging, take a long walk at lunch.  Everything you can do, will help, and it gets easier with each day.   Exercise, it is not just for other people anymore.

Remember, the world needs us, our collective wisdom, our keen insight, our profound understanding of the nuances of life.  Besides, if I am the only old person stuck in a world full of snotty nosed, wet behind the ears, know it all punks I would be sad, nobody wants that, right?

I am kind of an expert on getting older.

Every morning, on the morning news program we watch, they interview an "expert." Sometimes a doctor, nutritionist, or other clearly defined, documentable authority.  Once in a while the expert is a little more vague, and a little less clinical, maybe a "transportation specialist," from a local school district, or a "home improvement generalist" from a hardware store. People whose credentials might not prove to be so expensive, and time consuming to attain.

It has driven me, consumed me, I need to become an expert. But, at what? That is the question that has haunted me, woke me at night, troubled my waking hours. At what task can I be considered an expert?

Parenting is something that has taken a toll on me for the last twenty years. But, my wife does most of the heavy lifting when it comes to raising our children (thank God). I have really been more of a babysitter, a really fun babysitter to be sure, but not really an expert Father. Not even an expert babysitter. More of a sub-novice, who can warm pizza rolls and macaroni and cheese all while holding an Xbox controller, and getting beaten very soundly by both sons at whatever game we were playing, which eliminates expert gamer.

Then, in a flash of brilliance, in a blinding, white hot, fireball of advanced reasoning it hit me. I am going to become an expert on aging.

Everyday, I get a little older, or less young, if you prefer. And, I do it pretty well, too, if you ask me. I can even do it while sleeping, or watching tv. In fact, I am an authority on getting older. And when interviewed on the Morning News I will help everybody get older, too.

"So, Tim, what advice do you have for people who might be thinking about getting older?"  They will ask.

"Bob, (you don't mind if I call you Bob, do you?) I would tell them they should go ahead and get older, it is a great decision.  In fact, four out five doctors recommend that their patients get older, regularly."

"Well, Tim, my name is Mike, so I would prefer if you call me Mike. What steps should people follow if they want to get older?"

"Oh, sorry about that, Jeff, my mistake, If people are serious about aging, and I am, they should remember to breath, all the time. Well, maybe not when they are underwater, but most of the rest of the time. Of course, if you are really keen on getting older, Bill, you will try not to be underwater anymore than absolutely essential, possibly never."

"Well, Marcia, thanks for the wonderful insight, our viewers will be dying to live longer now that you have explained how."

"You are very welcome, Jane."

There is a lot more advice, so stay tuned to my new blog, Life Explained, explains aging.