“I have a Dream.”

Martin Luther King, Jr. His dream is yet to be fulfilled.
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I read a recent blog where a 50 year-old man was concerned about being old. Reminds me of the things I wrote about when I was the same age. But to write about being or becoming old, a person should have some experience and being 50 is not akin to being old. I suppose the guy was showing more angst than anything.
I am definitely getting old. There is now more hair growing from my ear canals than there is atop my head. My eyebrows look like two hungover wooly worms having a bad hair day. The bags under my eyes have become full fledged sacks. My eyes no longer make their own tears; I have some extra-virgin tears imported from Italy. Trimming nose hair is a twice-weekly annoyance. My chin was once fairly prominent; now it and all its folds gradually meld into my chest. My jowls flap and are difficult to shave. My ears and the corners of my mouth sag. I see a chocolate commercial on television and a tooth falls out. My chest hair is suddenly becoming all white. My little man-boobies are now larger than those of many women whom I lusted after in my youth. I can’t suck in my gut enough to see if I have any pubic hair left and I have to floss between the fat wrinkles on my belly. My scrotum is sagging to the size where I wanted it to be back when it was useful for something. About five years ago, my sex drive was spotted crossing the border into Tijuana, Mexico and hasn’t even bothered to send me a postcard. I have to wear Velcro strap shoes because I can’t bend past my belly to tie laces. I suppose I should rename my blog to “Loose Straps”. I need a new pair of sneakers but I have these which I have worn for eight years stretched to fit my bunions and hammer-toes. My separate crutches work under either arm and I cannot figure out whether they are bi-sexual or bi-polar. I sometimes have senior moments when I think I am a Conservative. I used to fret about which brand of condom was best but now it is worrying about brands of adult diapers that takes up half my day.
Well, at lest I am still here to write about it.
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Have a fantastic Worsh Day!
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