Well now that 2007 is officially flushed down with a swirl of cold water, I felt it time to make a change at the blog for 2008. I've turned the page around. I know... Oooooooo... living on the edge. I will perhaps get around to changing the other pages as time goes on... perhaps I will just after posting this. Who can say? This is the time of the year that I face another birthday steaming at me since it (my b-day) is around seven weeks from New Years Day. With it further entrenching me in middle age, I pause to reflect on things I've noticed about the process of attaining middle age status.
The perils of middle aging... I would have said the perils of middle age, but I thought it better to say it as middle aging. I'm saying that because I like to think that I won't be attaining my true middle age until I hit 50. Hit 50... sounds like you're careening out of control and then blamm-o... you're 50. So is middle age from 40 to 50? When does one become middle age? I've discovered that somewhere, at some point along the way, in some ways, I've turned into Woody Allen. Well, that's what I think when I hear myself talk at times.
Everything gets bigger when you age... well not everything. Shoes (and socks)... hmmm, socks, now there's something you never hear people complain about. Waist sizes go up, shirt (tops) sizes go up, shoe sizes go up I mean we've all said at some point "I really like this shirt, but they don't have it in tent size"... okay, so maybe that's just me. No one ever complains about having to buy larger socks. You never hear... "Had to go up a size and buy bigger socks today." I know... buying socks isn't like buying clothes. Socks can be bought, in my case, in the fits shoe size 9-12.
I think the biggest complaint hands down is the waist size... it's depressing to have to go up in size. Some of us uncomfortably re-packing ourselves to exclaim, "see, they still fit"! Not that I've had any experience in that area *unbuttons and exhales*. But as a man, I find that I've fallen into the lost me bum phase of my life. Somewhere along the line, I lost me bum... Lord of Flatbutt if you will. For years, I never understood why is was so friggin' difficult for men, who were older than me, to keep their damn pants up... the dreaded butt crack... which to date I have managed to avoid. Well, now I know. You know it's bad when you're standing outside on a windy day and you hear what sounds like a flag flapping in the wind but there's no flag in sight and you realize that it's your seat flapping in the wind. (For the record, this hasn't happened to me... not yet) Okay... I know how and why it happened. It's because I don't run anymore. Plain and simple. The most work my glutes get these days is shifting in my seat to activate the ol' pressure relief valve... which subsequently is usually followed by a chorus of "DAD"!
How do I know I've lost me bum? Has anyone told me this? No... it's an observation I've made all by myself. It's been this way for a while now, but I really took note some time back. My jeans fit snug in the front and less than snug in the back, but while buttoned and zipped, I can slide them down like a pair of elastic waisted pants. Much to my dismay, this flattening phenomenon was recently confirmed when I donned a pair of compression shorts and caught a profile view of myself. It's all but disappeared.
We won't talk about the vest 'o' hair!
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