I'm Not Old: Middle-age, aging and the comic truth about human frailty
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So, my ass and I are really having issues lately. Many of you may have read my recent article about a pair of fiber bars and the total loss of dignity. Well, the fun just keeps on coming. This time, however, it was not quite so grisly as all that, but it was, well, equally humiliating if on a different plane.
So, here’s what happened: I’m at work writing what I am sure is the most amazing copy of all time—although I can’t for the life of me remember what it was now—and eventually I had to get up for something.
So, up I get, push my rickety chair back, stand, grimace as pain surges through my lumbar region—the price of a Sleep Number Bed, the most wicked deception of all time—and totter off stiffly through labyrinthine veal pens in which sit my co-workers rotting their lives away. That’s when I felt it. The nerve thing.
The back of my thighs, right where they sort of hang over the edge of my chair, just below the cheeks, were having this odd sensation. Not pain so much as just, something not right. I could feel it, like a band across the backs of both legs, a warm not-quite-tingle but not-quite-pain thing. Not pain at all, to be honest, but, well, it was something I’d never felt before.
I'm Not Old.
Which is typical as we age. Our bodies, once spry and resilient, have all kinds of weird crap just suddenly popping up and going wrong, sensations we never knew and never believed that we would know. We’ve all heard the old-man jokes. The hemorrhoids and hernias and incontinence jokes. We all know it’s technically coming, but we all like to think it’s going to be a long time before our bodies start breaking down. Before they fail.
I can remember blowing off my receding hairline. My old man was bald, all my grandfathers were bald. Hell, even my father-in-law is bald, so, you know, I never had a chance. And it’s fine. So I’m bald. I make “higher-evolution” jokes and point out monkeys are hairy. Who’s a monkey now? Being bald is fine. But it didn’t stop there.
When I get sick or when something unexpected happens to my body now, I worry. I didn’t used to worry, but I do now. When I notice a lump in a lymph node or a bump on a body part, I quickly check to see if I have one to match on the other side. Our bodies are symmetrical after all; I know this because I’m old enough to have learned what “symmetrical” means. And that’s the problem too: knowledge. They say knowledge is power, but sometimes it’s just a pain in the ass, especially if you are old and having some unexpected pain in the ass. Knowledge becomes the source of anxiety, especially imperfect knowledge, and the older you get, the more you hear, learn and see. The more you hear, learn and see, the more you have to worry about.
When you’re twenty-four, a lump somewhere is “probably a zit” or it’s an “I don’t know what it is, but it will go away” sort of thing. Nothing is ever a worry. You’re twenty-four—death is so far away it’s not even a joke yet. But when you start getting old, when you begin to become aware of mortality, every lump is a sure sign of cancer or something else just as bad; it’s always a harbinger of death and misery. A reminder that the grim reaper now knows your name.
So me, with my intemperate, fiber-hating intestines and my hairless Darwinian pate found myself confronted with my latest physical failure, something new to give testament to my impending demise. Nerve disorder.
I steeled myself, took a deep breath so that I wouldn’t let myself stress out. I gave it time to go away; it could just be the pressure from sitting too long had made a strip of flesh go numb across the backs of both of my legs. I told myself I was being silly, too young at forty-three to worry like I was. But, alas, the truth is not always as pleasant as we might hope.
Finally unable to bear it any longer, I decided I had to investigate. I’m not a doctor, of course, but, you know how it goes: you always go look for yourself first, run your ape-fingers over the tender area, the bump, the discoloration as if somehow you might know what that is, might be able, amazingly, with your acute but total lack of medical training, make the diagnosis of something less than benign. So, somewhere between hope and the certainty of death, the self-exam begins.
I found a discrete locality. I looked furtively about, making sure the coast was clear, that there would be no witness to the horror that flushed my face when the fatal truth was found. I was in the clear. So I fished down into the back of my britches to face it, reached down seeking the first tactile glance of whatever this newest thing was, this latest human failing that had now gone horribly wrong with me. I dreaded what I was going to find.
The elastic band on my underpants had given way.
Yes, with a last elastic gasp, the tatty old things had just slipped right down my backside and bunched up across the back of my thighs inside my pants, creating something of a lump. That was my impending doom. My imminent demise. My goddamn underpants. The only thing dying was my waistband. And my pride. Both dead as a pair of boxer’s had its last hurrah, a last morning clinging to me and then they fell, mortally wounded down the back of my jeans, leaving me, the timorous middle-aged moron, in a fright thinking that the Reaper had rung the bell. Ding-dong. “Hello. Excuse me, is there a Mr. Shadesbreath here? I have a surprise for him.” And at work no less, an ignominious death to be found in a cubicle, my body contorted by the last spasms of agony, limbs akimbo, fluids loose, struck down by the dreaded Numb-Thigh Disease. NTD they would call it in my obituary. Found in a pile in a cubicle. Only the bathroom would be a worse place to die.
So I was fine. I am fine. But, My God, I thought as I stood there. What’s wrong with me? Then I laughed. What an idiot. How many more of these moments will I have before I can finally accept mortality gracefully, with dignity. I don’t want to become that old man who talks incessantly about his recent surgery, about his ailments and his pains, about the horrors of a hospital experience. I want to laugh in the face of death, “Hah Hah!” like the great, incomparable Jackamo. That’s what I want to do. And I’m working on it.
Until then, well, I need some new underpants.
The Incomparable Jackamo!
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I loved this tale, it made me smile with you at what aging does to we frail humans with weak elastic in our undies Lol..
Easy enough to solve that problem, just quit wearing undies! Never could figure out why we need them in the first place. Or perhaps you live in a cold climate.
The Jester is hilarious! Thanks, SB
I'm with Austinstar - just chuck the whole undies thing and go free. I'll bet Death doesn't wear any undies either coz really, he can't risk getting NTD while on the job. ;)
ROFLMAO, Shadesbreath--you've done it again--made me laugh so hard I choked on my own spit! (Now wouldn't THAT look elegant on a death certificate?!)
Luckily, I was alone in the office, and the cats pretended not to notice.
Man, getting old sucks. Which brings me to this retirement bull. If we don't retire until we're 65 (except for me it'll be, like, never. I'll have to keep working), then we're too damn old to enjoy it! Can't run, can't boogie, can't cruise for chicks! Life is cruel. And I never bought into that saying, "What you don't know can't hurt you." If you don't know there's an anvil about to fall on your head, that's gonna hurt you plenty!
Shadesbreath,
I've always had my suspicions about the sounds-like-a-wank Sleep Number Bed...well now I know.
Your post..haha..reminds of a Woody Allen film, when Allen was convinced he had a melanoma but it turned out to be an inkstain from a leaking pen.
I sympathise with the underpants situation. This happened to me in sixth grade when I was standing in front of a hall of students competing in a spelling bee final. Naturally I couldn't concentrate, since all mental effort was expended in figuring out the best way to contort my body so the limp white lace underpants could continue to defy gravity. I was so relieved when I misspelt "aeroplane" so I could clasp the offending pants through my school dress and get the hell out of there.
Chris is right about that anvil...lol
Can't help with the elastic thing but apparently baldness is a sign of high testosterone. Semen has the highest concentration of testosterone. So my advice to you is to stop swallowing.
Getting old is a bugger aint it?
I am sill chuckling about your dilemma!
I once had a slip wind up around my ankles while walking in a parking lot after partaking in a few tasty libations but that's a story for another day!
It's so important to be able to laugh at yourself.
Aging isn't all bad -- it's all about the attitude!
You have my sympathies you poor old thing. I have a couple of hints: 1. This never happens to cammandos, 2. If children are following you through the airport and laughing and pointing, check to see if the toilet protector sheet if tucked into the back of your pants. 3. When you start seeing your co-workers as veal, it may be time to become a vegetarian.
I really enjoyed this expose of one of life's most personal experiences.
I was just thinking, it could have been worse/even more funny, if someone from the veal pens had decided to walk by at the crucial moment of discovery! Glad it was just an underwear malfunction!
Totally and completely hillarious, mostly I think because we can all relate to the truth it contains, the feelings that come to us all, the anxiety, the worry, the feeling of the sands of time speeding to our demise as it were. Thank you for sharing. It takes a rare individual to share his/her weakness and fear... anyone can share what makes them look strong and secure. Bravo!
Reading this I realized that I have a 36 year old son! And at 62, I feel fine just fine, Young Shades, so don’t give up. It’s often a state of mind as well, Kid. :-))))
I began waiting for the guy with the scythe at around your age, Shades, and he's coming closer every day. He is such a bummer, you know? I've managed to send him on his merry way so far, but I know he's on a special mission-me.
Very fabulously funny, my dear-see, only old ladies can get away with 'dear' and 'punkin'-I enjoy that without an ounce of shame!
LMAO! No joke!
I loved the whole story!
OMG, this is hilarious because in some "form" or another, we've been there! But, if it's any comfort, when I was 18, and wiggling down main street in my new tightly fitting red dress....my slip fell down around my ankles.
Which might be a one time experience in life, and frightening enough to a young girl, but unfortunately, no, not one time for me. Embarrasssssment abounds. My first day on the job in the work-executive world...the CEO whispered to my fragile 19 year old ears..."your capri pants are on backwards...I just wanted you to know before the office staff did..." (they had a stitched seam which told the tale, and come to find out he had a daughter my age).
That sweet old man ( he HAD to be 40'ish at the time) saved my corporate life...and always had a conspiratorial wink for me.
So, I could fill a book with other embarassing moments...I just don't have the courage to tale.
My friend, you continue to share the joy of laughter with us. Your drawings are priceless!
LOL, Shadesbreath, one of the reasons I laughed so hard was because of two similar tales--that very thing happened to my father one time--albeit not in an office setting, but uncomfortable, nonetheless.
The other was a lady my mother knew--out with her fiancé. Being a woman, her drawers went all the way down to the sidewalk. It is told that she nonchalontly stepped out of them her beau squatted down & in one smooth motion, scooped them up & put them in his jacket pocket, and they continued on to their theater date.
Hmmmmmmmmm .......
(P.S. I see we're practically "neighbors".. we're about an hour from Sac.)
funny story:D
Don't know about hub camp--it depends if I can scrape up gas, bridge toll and parking costs by then. SF parking is outrageously expensive!
As for it being a 'work night,' we are self employed, and work whatever days fit into whatever else we are doing...that said, there is no work at the moment.. hence my dilemma with whether or not I will attend an otherwise free event.
Oh my! I needed a good laugh and this provided it for me :) Age sure does it to us! Thanks, Shadesbreath
Hi, FORTY THREE??? OLD? ha ha that was hilarious! I burst out laughing and scared my son half to death! ha ha I have had a couple of lets say, umm, accidents too, one was when I was on my motor bike and I noticed something white appear down the bottom of my trouser leg, it turned out to be a new pair of knickers that I had got caught up in my jeans! I had wrapped them up after washing the jeans, to put them on in the morning and for some reason they had disappeared down the trouser leg! so when I got dressed I wore another pair and forgot I had put them there! they were sailing along the edge of my bike at 60 miles an hour like a union jack flag! hee hee and the second one was after a slight indescretion with a certain male, I hobbled home and tripped on the pavement, I couldn't figure out what was wrong until I got home and turned on the light and realised that I had put my underwear on in the one leg! oops! hee hee cheers nell
You know Shades, this reminds me of one of my failed attempts to get into "great shape". Once after over working my legs on one of those science fiction looking leg machines, I felt a strange feeling in the back of my gluteus maximus, then later while walking out to my truck, my legs just stopped working and I fell down in front of a bunch of hot chicks. Two security guards had to carry me to my vehicle, it was so embarrassing to say the least. And I was 35 at the time.
Hi, again, forgot to tell you about the time I got out of bed, didn't realise that my leg had gone 'dead' from sleeping on it, and fell flat on my face on the floor! lol but at least clothes were'nt a part of this tale! ha ha
Just by merely including a clip with Danny Kaye in it earns you kudos for this piece. I absolutely adore his work.
You caught me completely offguard with this one. I was thinking hmm...sciatica...and it was your damn underpants. Sheesh! :) Okay...I fell over in my chair howling in laughter imagining you with your hand crammed down the backside of your pants feeling around too. Very funny stuff!
I can relate to your morbid thoughts though. For me it was my knee which I somehow tweaked while...bowling. Yeah...real dangerous sport there. I had to wear a flexible knee brace for a week or two and realized that knees are important for things like getting out of a car with dignity and getting off the toilet. I was truly grateful that the office bathroom has a handicap rail.
I tried to hide the brace when bowling again...I mean really...who injures themselves bowling?! And then I noticed a strange thing...about three men with not ONE flexible knee brace...but TWO bowling to either side of me. I wasn't as self-conscious after that...but the fact that all of these men were in their 60's and retired made me worry that perhaps I was more a peer than I once thought.
By the way...I scared myself the other day. I ate two fiber bars and then remembered your previous piece. I completely panicked...and then realized they were only the Quaker Oats ones and not the Fiber One bars...phew. Nothing exploded...
ha ha ha ha ha! I love the imcomparable jackamo! Its really funny. Well as for Old age, we will get there some day, but as for we the young ones, we've got to make good use of our time now, cos our fathers' time is past. Great hub and really informative and as well funny. I've got to watch the incomparable jackamo once more. ha ha ha ha ha!
Ok, first let me say, Best opening line EVER. And I really dig the hairy monkey logic! I totally know what you mean, though, I recently discovered bumps on my knuckles and freaked out and I'm only 33! That is also very true about knowledge not always being a good thing. I have a friend who recently became a nurse, and simultaneously a nervous wreck who automatically goes to worse case scenario! This is the great thing about working from home, if my underwear fail me, I don't have to risk anyone seeing it! Love the sketches, by the way, are those yours? Thanks for the laugh!
Always funny, Shades. (Can I call you Shades? It seems I have known you for a long time.)
I hate to tell you, but those mysterious discomforts may become more frequent in the next several years.
I was going to suggest suspenders-- but I saw the eBay ad for " TROUSER BLOUSERS BOOT BANDS GREEN ELASTIC 2 PAIR NEW! " and I thought maybe if these serve the Marines well, they might be a good investment for you.
Haha... hilarious post. Much of the hilarity is from the truth. I'm 27 (I know I have a long way to go), but I'm starting to notice these little things. I'm doing my part to try to stay healthy and stay in shape as long as I can so I don't have to be one of old people who talk about their surgeries all the time.
Hilarious story Shadesbreath, getting old is tough (and Im slightly older than you). My problem these days is remembering to put undies on! LOL. Thanks for the jester video, I loved that movie, must watch the full version again.
Ha, I'm chuffed I could make you laugh. cheers M xx.
Really enjoyed this and it actually does make aging seem humourous.
I do know about those pains at the back of the knees. And the worst is trying to get up off a sofa. Time was when we'd spring up, quick and neat. Now, the two arms need some wierd support just to get out of the chair.
So distressing LOL!!!
Great hub Shadesbreath.
Hey Shadesbreath, at least it wasn't something to really stress out about. LOL! You may be having these sort of stressing out things happening, but I'm not that old to worry about it, nor do I think I will begin to worry about it, when I reach your age. LOL! I'm not even sure how old you are in the first place, but being 41 myself, going on 42 in less than a month, I can see how you've been troubled with these things. LOL! Not that I am, but I can see how YOU would be. :P Great hub! Cracked up me up. However, not as funny as some of your other stuff. :P But, still a great read. :)
Until I read all the comments, I thought I had a unique family tale. When my grandmother was a young lady, as she attempted to board a street car, her bloomers fell to the ground. She simply stepped out of them, picked them up, and continued boarding. She was such a "prim and proper" lady that the story amazed me.
I wish some of the wierd things that have happened to me were as simple as faulty elastic. Would you believe I managed to break a toe while sleeping ALONE in bed!!!
BTW Last weekend I watched "The Thirteenth Warrior," which you had recommended in a comment on one of my hubs. I enjoyed it, and I see what you mean about the ending.
As always I enjoyed your hub, including the extras.
Maybe slacks became fashionable because so many women lost their bloomers!
I would like you to read "Gaunt Castle" by Kevin Schofield. It is not in your humorous style. Instead, it is a horror fantasy. You might enjoy it, though. I find Kevin to be quite intelligent, knowledgable, and creative. Let me know what you think.
Thanks, Shades, for checking it out. I am pleased that you agreed with my assessment.
In the next day or two, I'll be publishing a hub on Voltaire. I've had the devil of a time writing it! I am trying to do too much in one hub. I do plan to have a link to your hub on C.R.
I published my hub on Voltaire. It is not a book review, and there is so much more I would have liked to say. It does contain a link to your hub.
I'll be interested in reading your first hub book review!
Hey SB, I loved Bill Cosby's quote from his turning 40 book--"You know you've turned forty when you stoop down to pick something up and you look around for anything else you need to do while you're down there." Hilarious fare here my friend. I think you should sing about your experience in a group worthy of Yoko Ono--The Underpants Elastic Band. =:)
I live within the great circle of crap. It was a nice place until I read your hub and discovered that I don't live alone. :) Its getting very crowded in here.
I had to come back because I forgot to dance on your buttons, after all you made my smile, laugh and I did really enjoy this hub. Tell me. do you really look on both sides? :D aloha :D
I'm still laughting. Anyone who can make people laugh at getting older is ok with me. Your etchings are top notch. Rated up and awesome.
Shadesbreath, You did it again. You amused me! this is so true, too. I once walked along and felt something inside my pant leg. It kept creeping down until it was finally slipping outside my jeans leg. I reached down and pulled . . and out came my underwear from the day before! How embarrassing. Luckily, I was quick enough to stuff them into my pocket before too many people saw. We laughed and laughed and I was embarrassed alright.
Its not your physical being you should be worried about, its your mental whereabouts. If you're mistaking a busted underpants for a maliginous lump I fear that you could be off to the funny farm soon. I don't think you have anything to fear from the grim reeper but watch your back for the men in white coats.
Ha ha, great story.
Some time over the last 2 years I found mortality. Denial was such a wonderful experience, totally free of any responsibility for human upkeep.
I'm with you Shades, something went wrong with the human cooking process. Need to have words with the chef!
Oh what a brilliant hub Shades, (as usual). I personally remember being at secondary school aged about 13 and wearing stockings for the first time. Slight problem was I didn't have a suspender belt, so in my immature wisdom I had used two elastic bands. Sadly one broke on my way up to my maths class, and although I made it to class it left me with a real dilemma as to how I could get through the rest of the day without the offending stocking ending up around my ankles. In desperation I asked my male maths teacher for an elastic band at the end of the lesson. Probably assuming I wanted the elastic band for some evil purpose, he asked me what it was for, and to my massive embarrassment I had to explain about my stocking falling down. No doubt he had a great laugh in the staff room later on, but to his credit he kindly gave me the elastic band with no further questions.
Another example of such an instance was when my Step Father (the local Fire Chief at the time), first began dating my Mother, (both of whom would have been in their 50's at the time). One lunchtime he came home to visit my Mother who had been doing some sewing. One of the items she had been repairing was a pair of ladies briefs/knickers. It was only upon his return to the fire station after lunch that he got out of the car and realised he had the same briefs attached to his trousers by a stray pin. It was just fortunate for him that he spotted it before the other firemen did or he would never have heard the last of it in terms of the teasing and jokes he would have been on the receiving end of.!!!!!
LOL Shades, I kind of felt the same way when my Mum told me about it, especially as he is such a dignified man who would have been highly embarrassed by the incident and the ribbing he got afterwards.
On another occasion he had a friend of his (also a fire chief) staying over here on the island and my Step Dad arranged a really nice hotel for him that was used as a brothel during the German Occupation of the Channel Islands. Having shared this bit of interesting history with the chap concerned, my Step Father thought no more of it for many months. Then, him and a lot of other Fire Chiefs from around the world met up in the UK for some convention, and as my Step Father entered a room full of fire chiefs he saw his old pal talking to a large group of them. Without batting an eyelid this chap introduced my Step Father by saying, "Ah, this is my good friend James Cassaday the Fire Chief in Guernsey. He very kindly recommended the best brothel on the island to me when I last stayed there".
You seriously couldn't make this stuff up LOL!
Too f'in funny! I feel that way now and I'm just 34. Oh what's to become of all of us? Great read!
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drbj Level 8 Commenter 20 months ago
Shady - this was FUNNY! But you know it could have been worse. What if you were a female and had been wearing a skirt? The shame and mortification of drooping underwear would have branded you for life.