Aging Gracefully

I think the most difficult part of aging is admitting to it. Before that you live in denial and sometimes make a spectacle of yourself trying to pretend that you’re still young.

My general image was the first to suffer as I grew older. First I got tired of the all-night parties; next the long hair with the occasional pony tail went out the door. Then my dress code went to the dogs. Gradually baseball caps made place for wide brimmed hats, T-shirts went out in favor of golf shirts & button up shirts, shorts became longer, canvas shoes gave way to leather shoes, jeans moved on for cotton slacks, and finally the vivid colors faded into something more sober.

Mind you, I still wear jeans more often than I should but that is because I think I still can. The thing is, I still have the same body as when I was 25. Over the last 40 years I gained 5 kilos. My ex-wife told me the other day that my bottoms don’t fill out my jeans as they used to but then my six-pack is still there; somewhat depleted but still there. So, as long as I can wear hipsters, I will. See, still the young man syndrome.

And I don’t know exactly when, why or how it happened but my taste for alcohol has faded. It was no conscious effort. I just discovered one day that I don’t drink half as much as I used to drink. My current view on alcohol is that I gave it up 20 years ago. I feel so proud of it that I celebrate it regularly with a few glasses of wine or brandy.

But it is not all milk and honey. In the mornings when I get out of bed my knees creak like an old shìthouse door and when my feet touch the cold floor all I can say is “f*ck, I’m still alive”, based only on the assumption that ghosts cannot feel the cold.

I cannot read without glasses and more than often I cannot remember where I left them last. I frequently find them on my head after looking everywhere else for 30 minutes or more. But there are advantages to a short memory; I forgive those who did me short much easier and I can read the same books and look at the same movies after a year or so.

Not ideal but it could have been worse. I have not (yet) grown any unruly hair at the most ungodly places and apart from a spot of arthritis and hypertension, I enjoy good health. Most my friends have many more ailments and they enjoy their old age; and so do I.

Admitting to old age does not mean surrendering to it.


And enjoy whatever you do today.