Opinion | Look out, world!

This “getting old” lark is for old people! That’s other people, not “this people”! I recently discovered someone in the mirror that not only frightened the hell out of me, but also brought on the realisation that I too have become one of “them”!

Alien life form! Old Age at last! I have been waiting for this moment for a heartbeat of time.

A sort of “come on darkness my old friend” moment. I thought beyond 50 would see me plunge into the abyss of physical and mental “ga-ga”— but despite that expectation, I hung in. At 60 I was sure to see the curtain finally descending on a life of relative cognitive awareness and the ability to climb a threestep ladder.

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Although cognitive ability did decline just a tad, and the ladder did present something of a challenge, I hung on tenaciously. Age 70 came the first real signs of ‘the wobbles’, be it the knees or the brain or both. Poor synchronisation I suspect.

Setting a new default on life became tricky. Now someone else has to climb that ladder, and I need the passage wall to feel and lean against in the dead of night as I pad my way to the bathroom for what has become known as, the ceremonial passing of the waters. This is normally accompanied by a multiple gun salute followed by the bark of my applauding dog.

Of all my senses, hearing is the most compromised. I hear only vague renditions of the actual. So, I guess, I guess!

Despite that impediment, the sound of our vacuum cleaner at full throttle is akin to an F16 Tomcat Fighter preparing for take-off. I thought I could just hear the theme music of Top Gun over the din, but no, it’s just my tinnitus which actually produces a perfect replica of Christmas Beetles mating — all year round. Yes, there’s a decline.

My remaining tats are a dentist’s dream. But I have a lot to be grateful for. I can still hold a “tune” except when people are around — at which time anyone could be to blame.

Thankfully, I still find the odd person who hasn’t heard my stories more than five times. Being closer to where you’re going as opposed to where you came from, is sobering. Perhaps the most poignant thing is that your opinions are no longer required, but, I refuse to keep them to myself.

I am, after all, someone who has a lot to say. My difficulty is rounding up an audience.

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