April 05, 2005

What would you like on your Tombstone®?

It's creeping nearer and nearer, day by day ... that dreaded 50th birthday ... qualification for membership in AARP. And, what's worse than turning 50, is wearing those 50 years draped over your brittle bones like so much sack cloth ... stained sack cloth. I have been noticing these strange blotches developing on my hands and arms. I remember seeing odd splotches on my ancestors, those really old ones who used to pinch my cheeks when they were still pinchable. Alas, I have gone from being a little cherub who hated to get his cheeks pinched into an old crone who loves the feel of smooth skin on his fingertips. One who loves to apply subtle pressure to supple young muscles.

Come here, young'un. I need some cheeks to pinch.
It's true. I'm a codger. Time to go pick out a casket.

My navel disagrees with my age assessment. It thinks of itself as a spring chicken. I do admit that the area surrounding my navel is spongy like a spring chicken, or springy like a sponge chicken, or chicken like a springy sponge.* End of report.

*If you think this is strange, you ought to have a gander at last night's NNGR™. It was a real goose gas to create. It was it created while I was getting gassed. I didn't want to do it but I was laughing so hard, I couldn't stop myself. You're not mad at me, are you? Feel free to share your answer. ;)

Posted by Tiger at April 5, 2005 10:16 PM | TrackBack
Comments

Dude I hear ya! In July I hit the big 40. Up till now it's been a blast. Now I know times getting short. Funny when I was 16 I couldn't wait to be older. Now I'd give anything to be that age again. One last parting shot. Notice how time flies now. Back in the day a summer vacation used to last forever. Now I know the meaning of wisdom.

Posted by: Raven at April 6, 2005 02:10 AM

50 is as 50 does.

Posted by: Jay at April 6, 2005 08:44 AM
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