Still sturdy despite the wear and tear.

Still sturdy despite the wear and tear.

I belong to a men’s group.  When I lived in the city I attended a group for more than 10 years.  That group has gone through some changes over the last couple of years.  Since I moved out of the city to my new found obscurity, the connection has become more difficult to maintain.  But some of use are attempting to keep the connection alive by using Skype and continuing to meet on the same alternate Tuesdays when we always met.  Ther are stories about the group that may never be told.  We have agreements about that sort of thing.  But if I maintain my anonymity in this forum, those stories may leak out.  Fictionalised perhaps, exaggerated and explained in ways that the real story never could.

Tonight we met.  There were only 4 of us.  Sometimes there are more.  We’re spread out these days.  One is in France, another a few hours south of the city, a couple more a few hours north.  Hardly anyone has stayed in the smoke.  It seems to be that time of our lives.  We’re all ageing; changing; retiring, at least sort of.  And tonight the theme of the electronic conversation was age and what it’s doing to us.

I talked to my young doctor this morning and said “don’t get old”.  She replied “getting old is a gift”.  All I could say is that she was right, but the side effects were a pain in the ass.  Actually they tend to be a pain in other places as well.  And all of the member of my mens group, at least every one that was on the call, had storioff out those side effects.

We’re all in our sixties.  That’s what comes of being in a men’s group for a long time.  We all get older.  We don’t have as much energy.  We don’t have as much libido.  We mostly find that peeing is no longer such an easy thing to do.  There are pains – I’ve got an arthritic big toe, two sore hips, and my fingers no longer like the experience of opening jars.  On any given day I can find other reasons to be annoyed at age.  And pretty much everyone in my demographic or older has their own list.  It’s a pisser.  None of us ever wanted to be like “them”, talking about what ails us and our medical procedures; but we’re them.  And while we dream of returning to the ease and immortality of previous years, it’s pretty clear that it’s not going to happen.

I don’t have anywhere to go with this story.  It’s just about how time is not always your friend.  As my wife says, getting older will improve your sense of humour.  If things aren’t funny it’s just a bit too tragic.

So here we are and here I am. Living the life we always wanted to live but finding more and more to complain about.  Or be in denial about.  Which is pretty much the same thing I suppose.

Anyway.  I’m happy.  I’ve never liked my life more. I have no idea why I’ve written this post.

This blogging business is strange.