I am growing old. It’s been creeping up on me for some time now but I guess I’ve been in denial. It’s so much easier to be in denial anyway. Why do people say that it’s not good to be in denial? Ignorance is bliss, is it not? Anyway, my eyes are now opened, my innocence is shattered. Well, acceptance is the next best thing to ignorance, so I guess I just have to learn to deal with it.
It all started with a simple hair cut. One fine morning, I decide that I have too much hair on my head. I need a haircut. I feel all powerful in making this decision: I and I alone decide what goes and what stays. I end up in a nice saloon and I drift off to sleep as the white coated guy goes about his work. I start to wonder why doctors and barbers both wear white coats, but let’s keep that for a different blog. I dream that I am back in Phuket where a beautiful girl is giving me a foot massage. I am rudely jolted out of my reverie by the razor wielding barber to tell me that he’s done. He holds up a contraption behind me so that I can see the back of my head and approve his work. I am not pleased.
“That’s somebody else’s head that you’re showing me”, I tell him. “Show me the back of my own head please”.
“This is a mirror, Sir” he replies stiffly, standing up to his full height in an effort to intimidate me. How stupid can this guy get? Does he think that I can’t recognize my own head?
“No It’s not,” I say, in my cold voice that I reserve for vermin like this. “I can see a hole in that head. It can’t be mine”. He stares at me woodenly. My mid life crisis does not interest him.
A hole in the head is serious business and my new found knowledge hits me hard. It would have been a lot easier if it had been the top of my head poking through – I could at least have pretended that I was growing taller. A lesser man might have moped around all day, but being a man of action, I formulate a plan. I need restoration - body and mind, the flesh and the spirit. Restoration of the spirit is very easy and I imbibe in pints.
With the spirit now in good condition, I start thinking about the flesh. I recall a biblical saying from my youth “The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak”. My flesh is not just weak; it’s positively flabby and calls for immediate corrective action. I sign up the wife as a personal trainer for the month. I quickly realize the downside of this arrangement – I cannot call in sick! My life becomes a blur of squats, curls and dips. I’m not sure how much good it’s doing to my body, but at least I don’t feel guilty about hitting the sauce every night – hey, I deserve it!
I am due to travel soon and am looking forward to Dublin and Corvallis again. There is a bevy of beauties waiting for me in Corvallis and they are and I quote “conditioning their livers in anticipation of my visit”. I realize that I need to be ready for that. My spirit is now restored and overflowing and I am sure that my personal trainer will have my body in shape too.
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