Evidently a man, as he ages, can no longer anticipate the tell-tale signs of pain. He might be, for example, doing some menial task liking screwing in a light bulb when he suddenly becomes aware of a peculiar sensation in the knee, only to awaken in the morning unable to walk without pain. Or perhaps he will be, say . . . eating an orange, when suddenly he chokes on a minuscule sliver of pulp and falls into a delirium of coughing. Or he might even be at the gym, having completed several sets of deadlifts when, as he stands up to leave the establishment, his back suddenly seizes and emits a loud pop--like someone firing a canon over the port bough--and he finds himself hunched over, nearly crawling across the parking lot toward his car, wondering how he will start the engine and move the shift lever into drive. And to top it, he has left his keys behind in the gym and must return to retrieve them, further heightening the out-of-body sensation that comes from living inside a body that sounds, increasingly, like a rusted-out Model T that is badly in need of grease.
Of course, I'm sure no one else had any of these experiences this week except me. Other manopausal males have regular check-ups and eat aspirin like candy; they eat asparagus; their bodies stay lubricated and limber with hot and regular sexual activity.
Me? I drink protein shakes and feast on donuts with some regularity. I read books in the shower and then complain when my pages are soaked.
A man can't be too careful as he ages. Unlike women who, after menopause, can throw caution to the wind and purchase an entirely new wardrobe each year, a man must guard his favorite trove of underwear with ever-increasing vigilance. He must learn the advantages of cold showers--which also save on utility costs and prolong the life of his water heater. He must take solace in his four hours of sleep and his twelve cups of daily coffee.
For better or worse, he is prepared to die first. He hopes he does. His supply of Icy Hot will only hold out for so many years, and he knows there is a better, pain-free world out there somewhere.
Of course, I'm sure no one else had any of these experiences this week except me. Other manopausal males have regular check-ups and eat aspirin like candy; they eat asparagus; their bodies stay lubricated and limber with hot and regular sexual activity.
Me? I drink protein shakes and feast on donuts with some regularity. I read books in the shower and then complain when my pages are soaked.
A man can't be too careful as he ages. Unlike women who, after menopause, can throw caution to the wind and purchase an entirely new wardrobe each year, a man must guard his favorite trove of underwear with ever-increasing vigilance. He must learn the advantages of cold showers--which also save on utility costs and prolong the life of his water heater. He must take solace in his four hours of sleep and his twelve cups of daily coffee.
For better or worse, he is prepared to die first. He hopes he does. His supply of Icy Hot will only hold out for so many years, and he knows there is a better, pain-free world out there somewhere.
That you have stated my aches and pains so clearly is scary. IcyHot by the bulk!
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