Moving Through Time

My superpower is farting

          Are you ready? Can you feel it? Even on a Friday it’s happening. Actually, on Friday it feels like you’re going back in time. What are we talking about? It’s the taboo subject that no one wants to mention. We’d rather talk about how to stop it or fix it. But why? What’s so incredibly scary about this? Is it how it looks or is it the ultimate outcome to this process that makes us fight against the dying of the light? Yes this week we have been talking about aging, in honor of Paul’s birthday yesterday. We hope we were gentle.


          Aging is a natural process and how we deal with it is imperative to a healthy life.


          Paul says: One of the myths about Merlin from the King Arthur legends is that he moved backwards in time, going from old to young and knowing the future but being surprised by the past. Sometimes that is the way I feel. In high school I was scrawny, oily and fearful. In college I was scrawny, tequila soaked and fearful. As a young man, I was generally no fun since it is hard to be the life of the party when you are hiding under a rock.


          Like Merlin, I look at these men of the past and I am surprised. Now, according to Lee, I am fuckable, which is good since she handles that part of my life. I have been described on occasion as being cute, smart and funny which, by the way, makes me turn a deep crimson, giggle like a small girl, and wander away to find a drink. No, I still do not handle praise well.


          What is the difference between the man that I was and the man that I am? Well, I lucked out as scrawny found a pleasant equilibrium with my middle age spread but I do not think that it is my fat content that has made the definitive difference in my life.


          I figured it out the first time I saw a fashion come back from the dead, when I saw a young woman 20 years my junior wearing bell bottoms and beads. Unfortunately, jeans were low rise and had a hip capacity 25 pounds smaller than the girl wearing them. Though I applaud the good self esteem, I must admit to scanning the room for the fashion police. No, she didn’t need to be arrested but a warning was definitely in order.


          But my realization wasn’t about a little muffin top but about the brevity of our existence. As a young person, we unconsciously choose either to race toward death or run from it. We look for ways to cheat the reaper or we try our damnedest to stay under his radar. And then I saw my chunky little hippy and knew that it didn’t matter. Life has its own rhythm. Whether we embrace death or scurry from it, it always finds us at its right time, not ours. This works for other things too. Love, understanding, enlightenment, and peace all have their own pace. So I create the space for them such that, when they do find me, there is fertile ground for the best of my life, love, spirit, and serenity to grow.   


          Now Lee needs to write something funny. Either that or we need to supply you with a cartoon.  


          Lee says: Before the funny, please note that Paul just had a birthday. Even though he celebrates the shit out of the yearly event, he does tend to get maudlin.


          Now the funny: I love getting older. Not the slowing down part but the sheer lack of filters that comes with wrinkles and grey hair. I have felt like someone has un-tethered me and I can say what I want (respectfully). I am no longer expected to put up with bad service or rude people. I can say what I feel and I am ready for any consequence. I’m kind of like a super-hero. Just call me Geriatrica!

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