At A Moments Notice...

So I'm a year older. One would think it would register oftly loud on some richter scale but, what do you know, it didn't. Yesterday during the big day I kept thinking: Wow it's my birthday, yet, it doesn't feel like it. Remember back in the day when having a birthday meant doing the cabbage patch all day long? Dang you were too happy to see those numbers add up. But now...it's like whoa...slow your roll!

Honestly I don't mind getting older. I actually like getting my grown man on. It's just, i don't want to grow old. I watch the elderly, and it scares me. And I find myself asking, do I really wanna be a sixty year old man? I mean consciously I do, I just don't want to look like a sixty year old man. Somewhere in my house I have this book entitled: The Book Of Questions. In it one question asks: If you could live to the ripe ole age of 90 and maintain either the mind or body of a 25 year-old, which would you choose?

Initially I said the mind, because uh, who really wants to be that forgetful senile old bastard that can never remember anybody's name? I mean damn', wouldn't that shit just irk the shit out of you? * conjuring up that old senile voice* "Now tell me a'gin baby...who are you?"

But, the more I think about it, the more the superficial parts of my self starts twitching, and wondering: Wouldn't it be hot to be that old mofo up the street that still has it going on? I'm sayin', just think of the play you could get! But just as quickly as the thought comes I think of Sommore and her joke on the Queens of Comedy about us growing old with big dicks and big tits and not knowing what the hell to do with them.

Still I tussle with the question. Which would I choose...

Then, I watch my parents, particulary my pops, and I wonder: is that how I'm gonna look? Don't get me wrong, my folks look good for their age. And actually I'm quite impressed that they're still able to do practically everything they've always been able to do! At 68 & 71 they can move! I'm talking running and er'thang! Still I wonder if they can well um, you know...nah, who am I kidding? I'm not even going to go there...

One good thing about growing older is that I happen to be with a partner that prefers older men. Unlike me, he loves when I discover yet another grey hair. While I'm dashing to the medicine cabinet to get the tweezers to yank that son-uh-mah-bitch out, he's blocking the bathroom entrance-way talkin' bout: "leave it!" Damn, what's a brother to do?

Subconscious: OOO! OOO! I know! I know!
Me: What?
Subconscious: Live!
Me: Exactly.

The truth is I cannot stop the inevitable. I will continue to age with or without my consent until the day I die. And even then my body will age...well actually I think rot is more appropriate. My best bet is to continue to take care of myself as not to enter old age with a shit load of medical problems. I already have a bad back to contend with, who needs high blood pressure? Or worse sugah! [That's uh, diabetes for the none-country folks.]

Subconscious: So do your best...
Me: I will.