Ok, so I'm 48. That's not so old... is it??? I still see myself as maybe... 24 or 25. Who am I kidding? I'm 48 and I need to accept it. I need to accept that my body is falling apart. I need to accept the fact that my beard is salt and pepper. I need to accept the fact that I'm as old as my maternal grandfather was when he died of heart problems.
I can't accept it. I'm going to fight old age tooth and nail!! I go to the gym several times a week to get in shape, lose body fat and gain lean body mass. I take testosterone shots and tribulus terrestris to keep me functioning like an 18 year old (yeah, right). I have even taken to dressing like the college students with whom I take classes. My ear is pierced, and my beard is dyed blond (I match my wife's hair color -- I use her hair dye). I hate getting older.
It's not the getting older that I really hate. I love the experience and wisdom which comes with increasing age and (hopefully) increasing maturity. What I hate is looking like I'm getting older.
Last Friday night, as we were driving to an art exhibit opening, featuring works by one of my professors, my wife commented to me that she was somewhat apprehensive, embarrassed, in fact, by my appearance. "Why?" I asked as I straightened my tie and adjusted my suit coat. "People may think that I'm your mother," she answered.
No way! I keep getting mistaken for a professor. Good grief, most of my professors are younger than I. I smiled, but at the same time, felt oddly out of place. "No they won't," I replied, hoping that my suit coat would hide my 48-year-old waistline. The reassurance was met with silence, and we continued on to the opening.
We live in a youth-oriented society. One of the articles in the book focused on how bad women have it because they're "used up" after the kids have left the house. Their looks are (supposedly) gone, and they will receive little or no respect after that. It states that men look more distinguished as they get older, and that women just look older. I don't see that. I'd rather have my wife look like she does now, than to have her look like she did when I married her. Men may look distinguished, but women look more gracious and dignified. That's a big turn on for me, at age 48. As they pass the stage of gracious and dignified (and I'm not sure that they ever lose that, again), they become cute again. They become sweet.
It's really too bad that we live in a youth-oriented society. The older I get, the more I appreciate the grace that comes with maturity. I cannot, however, get away from the fact that I hate looking older. I love the statement made by Kathy Bates' character in Fried Green Tomatoes, when she says that she will declare wrinkles sexually desirable. Maybe they should be.
These kids in class don't have a clue. Right now, they think that this mortal life goes on forever. I did. The LDS Church teaches that when we are ressurrected, we will be returned to our most perfect physical state, and that "not a hair of the head shall be lost." So that means, I guess, that I'll have a full head of hair, and look like Jon-Erik Hexum, or Brad Pitt, or some other sexy guy. However, by then, I will have overcome my vanity, and I won't care if I look like Jon-Erik Hexum, or Jon, Garfield the cat's owner.
Please, God... let it be Jon-Erik Hexum.
