My Senescent Stage

If you're a living being, you'll probably agree with me that life sucks.  I turned 45 last month.  I got body parts falling off, I don't know my way around anymore, I see Crow's Feet when I squint, and my head is up my arse.  I admit that the last of these infelicities has been the case for decades. Nowadays my body seems like it's held together by rusting machinery parts.   I'm not up on the latest nomenclature. I scratch my head in utter confusion upon hearing statements like "Did Diane really get vagazzled?" or "Man, I really fubared this one!"  I'm not hip with the latest songs, and I had the misfortunate of using the word hip among the young folk.  To me, Mozart is New Wave, but I'm a bit old school.  Music went downhill after Handel.

What happened to that cute little boy prancing around in his bikini Speedo at the beach seemingly just yesterday?  I threw a water bottle full of urine at him.  His prancing and Apeedo made me sick; I would never have behaved in that manner when I was his age.  Anyway, his antics caused me to reflect back on my youthful days.

Senex means "old man" in Latin, and it's of course the source of handy words like senile, senior, and senator.  I've proposed that we adhere to Latin when it comes to public office in this country.  A Senator should refer exclusively to old men in our highest legislative body, whereas Anus, meaning "old woman" in Latin, should be our term for female "senators."  For the record, I'm not a sexist; I'm just an etymology nerd.  Needless to say, though, it hasn't caught on yet.

I'm not quite senile and hopefully senior moments are still in the future, but I'm certainly in a senescent state.  I suppose I entered the autumn of my years once I hit 40 or so.  A good friend of mine used to say he was on a five-year plan.  That is, every five years or so he would change things about his life, or his circumstances in life changed in spite of him.  At some point after 2004 I partly reinvented myself, and I suspect more changes will occur in my late forties.  I don't intend to wait around for the sweet release of death.  I got some living to do.  I'm still a hopeless romantic, a mischievous kid, encased in a middle-aged shell.  Yeah, life can really suck sometimes, and I feel like a tree without leaves.