Friday, April 26, 2024

The Old Coot has a big nose! Published 4/24/24 #1,077

 The Old Coot is getting “nosey,”

By Merlin Lessler

 I looked in the mirror the other day, really looked for a change. Not my normal, quick glance that fills in the image with a memory of how I appeared years ago, making me think I’m not really an old man. That mirror showed many defects, a bigger nose to start with. It was “as plain as the nose on my face,” yet I hadn’t noticed.

 Then, I saw the ears. They weren’t mine! I never had saucers sticking out of the side of my head like that, had I? This must be some cruel trick. But, it wasn’t. Something was going on here; I was seeing it for the first time. I looked again. “Has my forehead ever been that big? And that far back?” The more I looked, the more I found. Too bad they don’t give you a manual when you sign up for Social Security to prepare you for the body alterations that will come your way.

 Like that bag of skin that keeps your insides protected from the outside world. All of a sudden, it starts to sag. It’s the opposite of that saying, “Two pounds of bologna in a one pound bag.” Now, I’m one pound of bologna in a two pound bag. Skin that’s sagging and wrinkling all over the place and thinning out so much that every time it gets a good bump, it bruises or bleeds. I can’t fix it with Botox – it would take too much fill it; I’d look like the Pillsbury Dough Boy

 Just great! If this keeps up, I’ll eventually have to braid my earlobes and tie them behind my neck and buy glasses with wider and wider nose pieces. So, here I am, big nose, big ears, arm muscles that are powered by rubber bands. When I’m in a movie theater, in a seat in the middle of a row, I sit in fear that a cramp will grab my leg, forcing me to swim over my seatmates to the aisle to kick it out. Yet, it’s the best time of my life! A period of low expectations. Nobody expects much of you when you’re an old coot. “Look at the old guy; he just raked his yard. Amazing!” We take advantage of it, us old guys. None of that, “Failure is not an option,” macho stuff for us. Failure is our best friend. It evokes pity, which is way underrated. It’s as good as, if not better, than praise. No sense to look with apprehension on getting old. It truly is the golden age of your life. Enjoy it when it comes. Big nose and all.

 

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