Getting Older

I know I've mentioned on multiple occasions that we watch Jeopardy!

It is humbling on multiple levels. 

I swear, I used to know more answers questions, but now they sometimes reach for such specific outliers that 710 and I just look at each other and shrug.

I'm sorry but I don't know words in Sanskrit that aren't yoga ones. Apparently a number of contestants the other night had zero problem in this field. 

At some point I just yell out the most incorrect and inappropriate answers and I'd probably do it if I ever got on the show just to see how deep in debt I could go. 

Mind you - there isn't a week where Marie Curie isn't an answer. And the question writers seem to looooooove Hagia Sophia it comes up so often. 

Conversely, I hate it when the questions are such lobs they practically give you the answer. And on many occasions, the contestant doesn't answer in the form of a question and they let it go.  <------ old man rant. 

The other humbling area are the commercials. 

While we are currently in mid-term season, right now there are a lot of those. But if you carve those out everything else is just driven to old folks...................like us. 

There are more prescription ads than one can shake a sitck at (see.....an old people's term). But there is also Gold Bond Powder. Consumer Cellular - for the old folks who want to be able to look at picturef of their grandchildren........I shit you not. Any number of "risk free life insurance plans that will never ask you your preexisting conditions.....(uh huh). 

Locally we get a lot of bath fitters too. Safety rails and such. 

I swear we age just watching a show.   I mean, technically we do......just not exponentially. 

Then 710 sent me this yesterday. 

MEDIAN. 

.....and we're bringing that median down!

OUCH!

And sorry Sony, but isn't any audience a younger one?????

But that explains the younger audience seeking. Jeopardy! is rolling out (or has?) a sports edition on ESPN and a pop culture one with Colin Jost as the host. I've seen none of these. 

Decades ago VH1 used to have a music one - which for me was great. I found it all too easy. Again with the lobs. It's like Celebrity Jeopardy!.  Other than Mo Rocca and Rachel Dratch I knew none of the "celebs". I guess it's like Dancing with the "Stars". 

Still, time waits for no man. Nor do advertisers. 

The sports version can have Doug Flutie hawking his testosterone pills. Pop Culture one can sell I dunno - Proszac?   Clearasil? 

Clearly with my old man ranting, I'm watching the correct version. 

Song by: Billie Eilish

Hole in My Head

While most people here wouldn't really notice it, but back near the start of the year, I opted to put my earring back in my left lobe. 

Yes, "my earring". Singular. 

Not only do I not have multiple piercings, I don't even have multiple earrings. 

It's simple. It's a tight hoop (I guess that's what it would be called). It's silver. 

I'm not sure most people here would know I've worn an earring. It certainly hasn't shown up in a lot of pics. The ones that might have shown it would have gotten wiped out in the disaster that was the 2010 blog host conversion that wiped out all images from 2003-2010. 

Oh, the horror! 

Even then, there would have been single digit images of me with jewelry. 

Back in 1990 I marched myself down to OS Shoe (say it out loud) down on High Street and finally got the balls to have them put a piercing gun to my head and pull the trigger. 

It was a semi-ugly black post that had to stay put for like six weeks before I could change it - or so I was told. 

Since I was still in my 20s (albeit barely) I played around with a few different earrings. Eventually I settled on one subtle style. I swear my mother didn't give me the diamonds that were left for me - on the assumption that they be made into an engagement ring for some woman - because she thought I'd make them into earrings. 

I'm not LL Cool J. 

Once I started working outside of academia, the earring got pulled as it didn't go with corporate culture, which then was suit and tie. When we would go on vacation, I would sometimes put it back in - back to being me, I suppose. Honestly, the last time it was in was in 2009 on a trip to the Outer Banks. 

I found the earring when we moved back during the pandemic and brought it out in February of this year and lo and behold - 17 years later that ear hole never closed. I figure it hadn't, as I could always see the crease. 

Oddly, only two people have said a thing:

710: "so.........should I expect a tattoo next?"

Chef Bob: "are you supposed to be Mr. Clean?"

As if I had as many muscles as Mr. Clean!  And 710 had lived with this before. Yes, I did worry that I'd be like a Kids in the Hall Character from three decades past......

He's Hip. He's Cool. He's 45.

Oh, if ONLY 45!  

The earring might actually age me. I'm not sure. I mean, it kind of looks stupid on Harrison Ford, but he's like 91. ....or something. 

The semi-final blow might have come yesterday at the gym. A girl woman was next to me and goes, "we have the same earring!"

And we did. Or at least very similar. She had others and tried to talk me into getting another one. I nicely laughed her off. 

The blow was: my earring was older than she. 

FUCK!

Song by: the Chicks

No Sir

Way back in 2023, when I started running with my training group (when zero people talked to me or acknowledged my presence) I remember telling Morty of the only attractive male in the pack. 

He "joked" that I'd probably accidentally run a full marathon just because I was following the guy. 

....as if I could keep up with this guys 7:30 / mi pace!  ....but I got the point. 

Just because no one got to know me doesn't mean I didn't figure out who was who. 

Do I know anyone's last name? Mostly not.  Do I know most people's first name?  Si.   ....except for Bob, who for two plus years I've been calling him "Jim" to which he's never corrected me.  I found this out this last weekend.  

But back to the guy in the pic, Chris. 

He is one of two in the bigger group who are handsome in person, less so in images. It doesn't do him justice. He is also like 25-30 years younger than I. And runs at a pace I can't even imagine, let alone do. 

......and he doesn't know who I am. Barely even a little. 

In the first five (of six) training programs (16 weeks each), not so much as a chin raised in an upward motion with a " 'sup ". All the folks in his advanced cohort "know" me, talk to me, call me by name and even give positive reinforcement. 

No worries. I wasn't losing sleep over this. If nothing else, he's fun to look at. 

But last Saturday, I started my 14 mile run earlier than the main group. My running wife joined me, as did Jim Bob.  After mile 4, I was just way ahead of them and saw them after my turn around. Slightly farther down the road, Chris and I passed as well. 

He was alone. I was alone.  Clearly he started early too, just later than the three of us. 

Now, when I see him, I always call him by his name, even though it's not reciprocated or acknowledged. I'm a guy who was raised to address people. My parents used to make sure I shook hands with everyone and look them in the eye - them in their adulthood, me in my pre-teens. 

Anyhoooo.......as we are about to pass, I say, "good job, Chris".   

His response?  "Morning Sir". 

O-U-C-H. 

Yes, he couldn't say my name, because he doesn't know it. And he didn't use 'buddy', 'sport' or 'pal', for which I'm semi-grateful. 

It wasn't a militaristic 'Sir'.  It was a, "you're my elder" kind of Sir.  

That 0.03 seconds hit hard. 

I should have taken that he recognized I was alive to be a step forward, but in reality I figured, I MIGHT be older than his father.  

FUCK!

Ouch, indeed. 

Song by: the Both

the Grand Illusion

It is weird how age permeates so many conversations these days - at least for me and my ilk. 

Normally it will come up at some point in the weekly phone call with the besties. 710 and I pepper it into our own conversations, mostly as "jokes", but you know - there is always truth in humour. Or so it's said. 

I can only move so many ways without something cracking or creaking. It's all right in front of us.

I suppose it should stand to reason as one is at, or near, retirement age. You've (probably) lost your parents at this point. You see others around you age and silently go 'eek'. 

I like to think I don't look my age, but in reality I probably do. I mean, I don't think most of us - including all of you - look like Wilfred Brimley when he was 56 - and looked 76. 

But these are conversations we have in our heads, or in private...for the most part. But I have to say, I had a good laugh at a mailing 710 got last week, as it was at his expense. 

OUCH !!!

Statistically - yes. It's possible. Maybe even probable. Maybe even possible (but not probable) that he could have a college-aged grandchild.  But still...........OUCH. 

Of course, it's a ploy - if you will - to probs get him to leave part (or all) of his estate to the college. Pass on the legacy. 

Still, it makes assumptions. It's not like he ever got a "Parent's Day" invite. 

....and it is one thing to be called "daddy".  It's another to be called "grand pappy". 

Song by: Styx

the Old Man Down the Road

I. Am. Officially. Old.  

Am I Medicare eligible?  I am not. 

Got my subscription to AARP?  Had it since I was 49!

Do I have my Golden Buckeye Card?  Nope to that. 

Might I use creams for my age and liver spots?  That is not a 'should I' question.  ....but still......no. 

Have I been mandated to be on a pickleball team at the senior center?  Not yet. 

Am I of the right age to reside in an independent living facility?  Well..........technically yes. But that's not it either. 

Do more than half the ads on Jeopardy target "people my age"?  Absolutely. 

Over the last few years AT&T has really jacked up their prices for cell service. And it just keeps creeping up every few months. What was once a whopping $80 a month has increased to almost unfathomable $110 - with no additional services. 

I despise the Verizon, TMobile and AT&T ads of $30/month for unlimited talk and text. You have to go to their website for the "for four lines" - which is now adds up $120/month. 

What is a single person, or just coupled with no one else in the house to do?  Get gouged, that's what. 

See? I'm already talking like my alter kocker self.  

So there are a bunch of cheaper options out there. Mint Mobile. Visible. Boost. Straight Talk. You get the idea. All have seemingly decent discounted rates, but all with a few strings, as you'd imagine. Straight Talk is through Wal*Mart, and I'm just not giving them a dime of my money. 

I did what any Jeopardy watching, AARP card holding member would do: Consumer Cellular. 

Those commercials only have people of a certain age - ones trying to get photos of their grandchildren and who seemingly struggle with technology. This can only be good for me. 

They even advertise a device called.........

Yes. Scratch off the 'd' and you get their targeted demographic. They don't even try to make it subliminal. 

This is just my fate. 

At 710's insistence, I will also be hooking up my Apple Watch to their cellular for an additional $5/mo. Since I usually run without my phone, he thinks it wise - in my advanced age - to be able to get ahold of him, 911 or Uber should I be out on a long run and injured.  .....and not carrying and breaking my phone is a plus too. 

It's a 66% reduction in my monthly bill, so I'm hoping it is worth it. It looks to be running off the Verizon network. 

Mind you - when someone asks what service I have, I just might hesitate.

Oh ......

Song by: John Fogerty

So Young

Back when the internet was young, there was this Top 5 list that came out daily. At the time I thought it was funny. 

They had contributors and subject a day that said contributors would submit their funnies to make it to the top 5.  

I attempted to break into that crowd and got a few try-out attempts, but never to actually make it. 

One of the lists were Ironic Celebrity Deaths. I can't remember four of them, but one was "Keith Richards: natural causes".  It made me laugh. 

Yet here we are 20+ years later and the man is 79 years old and still plugging away. Joke's on us. 

For the dozens and dozens of concert to which I have attended, the Rolling Stones has not been one of those - though on some level it is something I'd like to see. 

One could guess that them being in their late 70s and early 80s this could be the last go-round. I mean, they're already down from a five man band to three - though to be fair only one of those five has died (save Brian Jones in the late 60s). 

I'm not actually planning to go to their Cleveland stop, but never say never. 

I did smile at who is sponsoring the tour - it's absolute genius. It's not even a joke. 

Mick Jagger is the same age as Moscow Mitch. One struts, one freezes. I find it hard to believe someone like McConnell could ever have related to a Stone song even when being a young man. I'm thinking Lawrence Welk is too radical for Mitch. 

It would be nice if my AARP membership got me a 10% discount for tickets. And I'd love to know the average mean of the audience age - along with the ratio of guests to bathrooms. 

Song by: the Rolling Stones

Die Young Stay Pretty

There is a certain irony about going back to the gym.  

I mean: What's the end game?  It still all ends with entropy and death. 

My genetics, on both sides, could have me living well into my 90s.  I have stated before, and no doubt will again, I have no desire to do that. 

My next colonoscopy will be my last. In my mind, I have had my last pneumovax. Ditto with tetanus. I suppose I will get flu shots until my mid-60s. Then I'll let nature take its course. 

So what is it with this obsession to be in better shape and healthier? 

Granted, I go to the gym the same time every day. Monday - Friday I am inarguably the oldest person at said gym.......and I'm talking maybe by 30 years. As I leave, there is a guy who comes in who might be older - but in reality, we are probably the same age.  

On weekends, I've only stumbled upon one older gentleman. Honestly, I might be the second oldest member. Period.  Yes, there are multiple hours unaccounted for, but really, what are the odds any of those dudes being older? 

You'd think with such a younger crowd there'd be a more attractive sort.  I'm not saying there aren't, but extremely few to whom I find attractive. Again, I see the same 10 people in the morning and not many different on the weekend days. I can think of three who even remotely float my boat. And only one of them is regular - and lately he's not. Bastard.

I normally do not strike up conversations at the gym. I selected this gym because at the time I knew no one who went there (as it turns out I know two who are members).  I'm not rude, but I'm not there to be social. My last gym was. Too much so. 

I can count on one hand how many conversations I've had, and two of them are with someone with whom I work. One other was semi work-related, as he is in residency where I work. One was a dental student who struck up a convo only to have it morph how he works really hard, but how his testosterone is really high and that is "always horny". 

I had lots of questions and comments, yet I have lots of brains and the want of keeping all my teeth, so I said nothing. He is nice to look at though. 

The last conversation, again, I did not initiate. And it was in the locker room, which is always awkward. 

The much younger man (late 20s?)  asked if I was a runner, as he had seen the shoes I had - which are for runners. I still don't identify as one, but he caught me at a weak moment, as I had just had a personal best that I thought I could never achieve, so I engaged a little as I tried to get ready to shower.  He mentioned he ran for his college (I'm guessing track) and I had mentioned high school running for me.  .....and then........

"Oh wow! There were probably no portable music devices back then!". 

My outside chuckled.  My inside said "fuck. you."   .....but I said it only in my head and with a smile on my face.  I wondered, as I showered, if down the road it would be one of those THWIT things of which Spo wrote about weeks back. I have them all the time, and I kind of hope this "kid" does too.....eventually. 

Honestly, I don't think my gym time comes down to living longer, and yes, inadvertently I'm becoming (?) healthier. But to be truthful, it comes down to vanity.  Not Vanity.  She dead. 

Again - to what end. It's not like I'm single or dating. I just caught myself in the mirror one day this last winter and didn't like what I saw. Simple as that. Vanity. 

The second irony of this gym thing is:  because of my vanity, I'll end up living longer. 

Bother. 

Song by: Blondie

Older

Like it or not (and I don't), I am an aging gay male.  All three of those things are true.

In a quasi-on-going quest to satisfy educators on how gay men are - or want to be - I've opted to participate in another study:  Study on Aging and Sexual Satisfaction Among Gay Men. 

A doctoral candidate at Michigan State University is doing this for this thesis. At first I didn't qualify, because - thankfully - I'm not from Michigan. But he's opened up the study to other mid-western states, including Ohio. So he reached back out to me. 

And I said 'yes'. 

Granted, I suppose his dissertation could be on the actual title of the survey, but I'd like to think it is more. As you can surmise, many of the questions are on sex in your 50s (or older). Nothing totally salacious. 

There are questions on if you like your body, are you proud of it, do you feel that the gay community values that too much. You kind of expect those. 

There are a number of questions on depression - and if you are, and if so, how much so. 

I was taken aback by my answers on my inclusion - or lack of - in the LGBTQI community.  While I answered in the affirmative if I'm proud to be a member of the community, I hit 'disagree' when asked if I felt part of it.   And I don't. 

Part of that is age related. And laziness. And the 2020s. I mean, I don't go out anymore - covid or not. Gay life / bar life starts a good hour after I'm IN bed.........not looking to go to bed with others. But as we aged, we kind of withdrew from that life. Granted, work and family responsibilities increased taking us away from that world. 

I don't know if I'd feel a part of the community more if I participated in it more. I don't know that men of a certain age aren't just looked over - especially by what is a very judgey cohort. You can say otherwise, but think back when you're 25 and encountered a 60 year old gay man.  I mean, I suppose it's true for straight folks too, but I'm not one of those, so that's not my experience. 

So the final part was about questions not asked - and I included some of that in there. Again, those might have nothing to do with his focus of study. 

Listen, if this somewhat helps the gay community, so be it. If it just helps him get that PhD, I'm ok with that too. 

And if you want to participate in the study - and live in the mid-west, you can contact Lucas here. 

Song by: George Michael

Frozen

The beauty of aging isn't really beautiful at all. 

You know, as you age, things just happen, or pop up. Sometimes the latter needs pharmaceutical help.  Thanks Pfizer!

In reality, other things pop up and a lot of them are dermatological. 

There are times when having a full head of hair might be helpful - like when bumps just suddenly appear on your scalp overnight. Literally, not figuratively. 

As I couldn't see them and only feel them, I assumed it was a shaving mishap - though I don't remember bleeding. (because I didn't!.).  It felt like a scab of some sort. No pain. No itchiness. Just annoyance. And it is one of those things, once you find you can't stop touching - like after you take viagra. Thanks Pfizer!

I made - yes made! - 710 look at it for me, but he claims it was a raised mole. Two, in fact. This did not make me feel better about it. Moles that weren't there, that is now raised after a day or two?  THAT can't be good!

I have to say, I was incredibly lucky on the dermatology front. They are notorious for taking weeks or months to get into. I got an appointment in two days - thanks lady / guy who cancelled right before I called. Sorry about that melanoma that you didn't make it through. But yay for me. 

The appointment with the same doc who opted not to do my plastic surgery. While still a flat affect, he had some human aspects this time and once or twice was quite funny.  He asked about history of skin cancer - I know my dad had some stuff removed, and at least two of my sisters. I couldn't speak to the fact of what it was, as well, my dad is dead and ending up with skin cancer seemed preferable than talking to some of my sisters just to find out what it was. 

Short story (too late!), they are not moles and not cancerous. But warts.  .......so...........yay? 

Scalp warts?  Is that a thing?  

After a bit of discussion and asking if I wanted them removed (uh....yeah!), we went to and through the freezing process. Right before he started, he paused and goes, "no weddings or anything important in the next week?".  Crap. 

Then the big spray can of liquid something or other came out. His assertion that it wouldn't hurt was a lie. I mean, it didn't hurt as much as the eight unsuccessful sessions on my thumb 10 years ago, but pain free it was not.  

Oh - and I had three, not two. 

Allegedly, they'll blister, fall off, scab and those will fall off.  Then I'll be ready for my modeling career to begin. 

Song by: Madonna

the Old Crowd

I'm back. Things on the old MacBook Air seem to be fine and dandy.

Phew.

Anyhoo......last weekend, we went to visit 710's parents. I had not seen them for over a year. I was due. And it was my mother-in-law's birthday.

Jane resides in assisted-living facility. When we visit, somehow we always enter the building through the lower back level and hike the stairs to the third floor. I've only see that back hallway and her room.

So after our first visit of the first day, 710 had to stop in for a few to see his mother. We parked out front and I said I'd wait in the lobby. He said, "you'll fit right in".  I had no idea what he meant.

It turns out it was right after their dinner. The lobby was filled with seniors - and not the high school kind. I was the youngest person in the room by 30 years. And one of only four men. Almost all of the women were off in the adjoining parlour - as if it was the drawing room on Downton Abbey.

I was an observer. I got looks, but no one talked...to me. Actually, most of the women might have chatted, but so low, there was no discerning their conversations.

....and then there were these guys.....

...plus a guy on the far left, not in the picture.

As I sat and waited for my husband, I listened them talking about stuff. And then an aide passed through the lobby and the man on the sofa said about the guy in the chair, "he's not going to church tomorrow".  When the man in the chair protested, saying he was, the chair guy snapped, "you don't even know where it is!!!". 

Mind you, there were two churches  - one across the street, one right next door. If he had turned the other way, he'd have ended up in the river.

Old people.

Then all of the sudden, all the women decided it was time to go up to their rooms. I loved the cavalcade of walkers and canes. It was kind of sweet.

As I sat and waited (and waited and waited and waited) for 710, I noticed the silence. The men just stopped chatting and the guy in the chair dozed off. The quiet went on for like 20 minutes.  (yes, I waited a long time for that few minute visit to his mom......but I was entertained.)

All of the sudden, the Sofa Guy, turns to the other Chair Guy (not seen) who has yet to say 'boo'. Sofa Guy goes, in no raised voice, mind you: "hey.  hey!  You're an asshole!"

I burst out laughing. There was no helping myself.

I'm about 89% sure Chair Guy didn't hear a word.

I immediately wondered how long was Sofa Guy gestating on something that Chair Guy said or did an hour before.....or possibly 13 years ago. Or if dementia is involved, probably never happened at all.

Just then the elevator doors opened and out pops 710. He just saw my face and knew something was up. I made him sit for a moment to look around the room, so when we got to the car, I could relay my story.

As we walked to the door, Sofa Guy turns towards me, waves and says, "have a nice evening".

Oh, I did Sofa Guy.......I did.

And 710 was right. I fit right in.



Song by: Leslie Gore