I Can’t Wait Until I’m Old As Shit
It’s Going to Be So Damn Sweet
It used to be commercials. Then you saw infomercials everywhere. Now it’s social media posts, YouTube videos, and TikTok clips. Everyone is advertising how you can look and feel younger.
Been there, done that. It’s overplayed. I’m over it.
I spent the first 20 or so years of my adult life working out non-stop. Sure, I actually did enjoy it. It was nice knowing that I looked pretty decent, felt better for the most part, and was doing my part to stave off the heart attack I had coming from not eating healthy.
I had kids to raise and a partner I wanted to look good for. Mission accomplished on that end. I put many hours over two decades into the gym and feel that I did the work I intended to do. I’ll never look this fit again, but at least I have proof that it once was so:
I still enjoy the gym, just not as often. I don’t need the same level of intensity as I used to. Being about 40 lbs or so heavier than in these pics reminds me that a good light lift and a moderate cardio are the way to go most of the time.
With my back being hurt for almost two months, I’ve missed the gym. It reminded me of what the future probably holds as I get older. I accept that things are not going to be the same as I age. Hopefully, it will be somewhat gracefully, but who the hell knows?
I still enjoy unhealthy foods. I love to cook and drink wine while I’m in the kitchen. I will never be one of those people who watch commercials, infomercials, or online videos that tout how much younger you can look and feel.
Fuck that. I want to look older and feel like crap. I’ve earned it.
I am looking forward to the age where I can put my feet up without anyone giving me any bullshit about it. If I fall asleep in my recliner with company around, so be it. Just don’t shoot videos of me snoring with my mouth open.
Or do. I don’t give a damn. Hopefully, you’ll be respectful. If not, eh.
If we have grandchildren running around at some point, cool. Just don’t expect me to chase after them. I did that for many years with my three kids, it’s their turn now. Or at least make their spouses do it. Just leave me the hell out of it.
I’ll be too busy watching the Weather Channel, trying to keep one step ahead of natural disasters. I’ll also be busy working on my lawn, it’s gotta be as green as half the writers here on Medium. Plus I’m going to be busy yelling at small children to stay off of it.
After a rough day of lawn care, I’ll settle back into my La-Z-Boy and watch the History Channel. Though I didn’t fight in World War 2, Vietnam, or Desert Storm, I did often battle groups of Trumpers on social media posts in the comments sections. Close enough.
I’m also looking forward to losing what’s left of my hearing. I’ve already damaged my eardrums plenty by attending around 30 concerts without wearing ear protection. The ringing I hear right now as I’m typing this sounds like the Emergency Broadcast System tests that used to come on TV.
Hearing loss is already starting to happen. My Bride and I say, “What?” more than Lauren Boebert trying to understand parking directions at the airport. The less I can hear, the less I’ll have to do.
Mai: “Lovie! Can you take the dog out, please?”
Jason: *Stares at the TV with the volume at 65.
Mai: “Jesus. Never mind, I’ve got her.”
Point, set, and match, Grandpa Pro.
And no offense, but I can’t wait to get gassy(er). At a family get-together for a birthday or Christmas, I can’t wait to blast ass and barely be aware of it. Hopefully, I’ll knock over a small grandchild, maybe a few of them, like bowling pins.
Knocking over the grandchildren with the power of Grandpa’s fart sounds hilarious to me. Photo by Cortney Wenz on Unsplash
Avery: “Jesus, Dad! You have an eight-ten split with Little Johnny and Baby Susie!”
Me: “Just wait, I’ll pick up that spare.” *Brrrrrrrrratttttt!” “Told you.”
Avery’s Wife, “Aw, Christ. I better go bathe these two, now.”
*Grandpa snickering before falling asleep again. There’s nothing funnier and more tiring than a good public fart without giving a damn about it.
I want to keep sharp, though. I certainly will want to keep writing and will need to take steps to ensure my fingers stay limber enough to type these blogs people enjoy so much. Perhaps I’ll take up jazz flute on my 65th birthday.
I’ll still go to the gym when I feel like using my personalized mobility device to get around. That will come in handy at the grocery store, as well. I’m going to soup it up, too. Think like something out of Mario Kart, but no red shells. I better watch out for those damn banana peels.
Perhaps Mai and I will finally realize our dream and travel all over the world. I really want to see most of Europe before I finally kick the bucket. Maybe we’ll love it so much, we’ll spend our remaining years over there.
I could see us selling the house and all of our property before saying adios to this trashy country we live in. Our kids might be a bit disappointed that we’re spending their inheritance, but whatever. You gotta let go of mama’s tit sometime, Junior. Do well in college and make your own pile.
These plans sound glorious. So no, I will not be buying anti-aging products from online advertisers, phone solicitors, or the dipshits I know from high school who bug me about their stupid multi-level marketing schemes.
I’m aging gracefully. I’m can’t wait to be old as hell. Mary Kay sucks shit, anyway. &:^)
About the Creator
71x Top Writer on Medium. I love blogging about family, politics, relationships, humor, and writing. Read my blog here! &:^)