Forearmed (3/4+)
by Doug Hawley
I recently wrote a very
negative Short Humour story about reaching ¾ of
a century. In the interest of unfair,
unbalanced fake news, it’s time to look at
the pluses.
Starting at the top, I
still have some hair on my head. Neither bald nor
lush of pate, I have see-through hair. I have a
non-surgical cure for male pattern baldness
consisting of thinning on the crown and receding
in front. Part hair from ear to ear and comb hair
forward and back from the part, thereby
alleviating both problems. I expect to make
millions by marketing this scheme.
Because I’m thick
skinned (physically only), my crow’s feet
are from baby crows, my hands are pre-claw, my
neck pre-turkey, and little of my skin has turned
to crepe. My beard isn’t much, but it has
improved over the last sixty plus years.
I have the forearms of a
sixty year old, barely spotted, and much the same
size that they have been for sixty years. My
editor claims that my shoulders have grown up
since we got married, and one still works. Better
yet, I’ve got the body of a twenty year old.
I keep it in the refrigerator for midnight snacks
– apologies to those who have heard this
before, and to those who have not.
After we pass up some
things on the way down, nothing to see here,
south of my Equator we find strong calves above
trim ankles and feet with an excess of arch.
I’d better dial this back; I’m starting
to be aroused.
Physically, I do a fair
amount, including but not limited to, chasing the
cat, bad yoga, and fair hiking (five miles is the
new ten miles). What I call my knee
bracelets have given my arthritic knees a few
more miles. I can still lift my own weight,
as I prove most days by climbing out of bed. I
improve my mind by writing drivel such as this,
learning 1% of what I need to know to make a
website, and most importantly ignoring politics,
celebrities, “reality” and talk shows.
I’m winning by deteriorating slower than
most of my peers, although we know people who
have been active into their late eighties.
The parental units made it
for a few years past my age, so I’ve got
that. I don’t get bruises, headaches,
stomachaches or colds anymore (just continuous
congestion).
Possibly the best part of
my reclining years is freeing my inner curmudgeon.
Consarn it “they” is plural, impact is
a noun, “at the end of the day” is a
time and issue is not the same as problem.
We haven’t had a good president since
Eisenhower. Of course you are faster than me, you’re
a youngster. I find from talking to other
elderly people I’m not the only one claiming
advanced age when it works for me, and ignoring
it when it doesn’t.
If I do check out soon, the
way the world is going; it may be a good thing.
Get off my yard, you dang
hippie.
Short
bio – For more so-called humo(u)r, see his
listing in Short Humour, or his whole oeuvre (whatever
that is) at website https://sites.google.com/site/aberrantword/ which
allows one to limit the pain by including word
count.
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