AGEING

Ageing:

I have some news that may not come as a big surprise but we are ageing; it starts at birth and ends when you are thrown into that big box, I might add that big expensive box.

From birth tell you reach forty or so you think your going to live forever, most of us paid little attention to the care of our body’s we just went ahead and had a ball, smoking, drinking, and for young men, chasing women, and for the young ladies, doing everything necessary to catch some young man.

When you hit the mid fifties, the dance starts to slow to a waltz, the wild party’s become boring. All of a sudden you hate the new music, as well as the kids who blast the garbage over their stereos. Of course we never did that with music of GLEN MILLER, singers like Nat King Cole, to say nothing of that fine jazz we used to blast on our hi fi.  Besides when we played our music a little loud, it was real music. We could even understand the words and sing along; a wop bab bah lo bop, a wop bam boom, brings tears to my eyes just thinking of those beautiful lyrics.

When taking your shower you start to notice more and more hair clogging up the drain; it’s yours, or at least it was.

After a few more years those hairs clogging the drain have a bit more gray, then it turns a beautiful shade of white, then it’s gone; hello baldy.

Most men seem to handle this sign of ageing with grace.

Women go berserk at the first sign of gray, and this I can’t understand, they’ll dye their hair every color in the rainbow, but at the first sign of gray they go crazy. They keep dyeing their hair tell they hit eighty or so.

Next step to your “Golden years” is when you can’t read the newspaper without a magnifying glass; now you get the treat of adjusting to bifocals “I just need them for reading” oh yeah, women especially, will refuse to wear glasses in public, they can’t even read stop signs, yet they still drive, but look great.

I wonder who started that “Golden Years” BS? It sure wasn't anybody over sixty. Believe me there is nothing golden about growing old, except all the gold your doctors, pharmaceuticals, and of course your kids bleed out of your bank account.

You go to your doctor with the usual ache’s and pains and all he does is remind you that your just growing old, I don’t need some doctor at a $100 for a fifteen minute visit, that he was 30 minutes late for, to tell me I’m growing old.

Another term that had to come from some absolute whacko under forty, is “growing old gracefully”, there is no way your going to grow old gracefully, by now your doctor has got you on up to ten drugs for every ache and pain you got. Your penis has shriveled up to look like a peanut shell, so along with all the other crap he’s pouring into your body, he gives you a prescription for “Viagra” that very night your wife has a headache.

Another real pain for me is that when you go to your doctor or dentist, they've got these cute little girls as receptionist; that’s okay by me I like young sexy girls; what I don’t like is when you walk into their office they start off on a first name basis.

I don’t know these young ladies and they don’t know me, maybe if they played their cards right they could, if their lucky. In the mean time I prefer to be called Mr. Cook or Sir. Okay so I’m growing into an old grump, but only my friends call me by my first name.

I don’t trust doctors, most only know how to do one thing and that’s write prescriptions that know one can read; come on they've got up to seven years of collage, and they can’t write. Its a miracle that the pharmacist don’t make more mistakes and kill half us seniors off.

The next time you go to your doctor look what’s setting next to his writing hand, it’s a prescription book the size of a telephone book.

Okay I’ll lay off the doctors for awhile, but you have to start being careful of what these people prescribe for you; remember one thing when you get over sixty five and you wake up with no pain, your dead, you must learn to live with a little pain.