Dull Crap Becomes Important Crap When You Get Older!

God, I’m almost embarrassed to write this article, as I’m really gonna be telling on myself in a major way…..

I have to do it, though. It’s too late for me to be rescued from my own fate, but perhaps it will help someone out there avoid the same in years to come. Hey, it might even be used to aid in the cause of anti-aging research, at least I hope it will.

Bottom line, the reason for today’s article is both simple yet profound. It’s also undeniable. So, without further ado, our reason for being here today is:

I’m finding, as I get older, that I want to talk about drivel, stuff that in years past I’d never have mentioned to anyone. I’d not have found it important or interesting enough.

Bear with me, it’ll make more sense in a few, unfortunately. This past Saturday, I needed to get the oil changed in my truck. Around 2 pm or so, I ran it over to the garage that does such things for me. And since Ole Black (my ’98 Toyota Tacoma that I love more than God) was a bit on the dirty side, I whipped her into a car wash and cleaned her up a bit. Then, we both went home.

As soon as I arrived and walked in the front door, my son Will asked where I’d been? I then proceeded to launch into a long, impassioned explanation of how I’d just taken my truck in for an oil change. That wasn’t enough, though. Then I launched into yet another impassioned recounting of how I took Ole Black for a good washing afterwards. And as I was telling Will all this stuff, the thought hit me, “Just how boring is this? And why do I give a damn about giving him such a long-assed explanation of either item?”

Right at that point it didn’t bother me too much, but about an hour or so later my son-in-law Dave walked up. He mentioned that he’d noticed I’d been gone earlier, and wondered why? I then launched into yet another impassioned speech about how I’d taken Ole Black in for an oil-change and a car wash. And as I heard myself get yet again into all this detail about two such mundane events, the reality of what I was actually doing hit me, and my mind screamed out,

“We’re getting old, dammit! Oil changes are now a big deal So are car washes! Look at us, we’re getting mossy and mentally skanked!”

The bad thing about it all was, my mind was telling me the truth. I am getting old, and that’s a sure tell tale sign of it, getting long-winded about trivial crap that even a tse-tse fly couldn’t care less about. And if I’m already caring about car washes and oil changes, then the following things are probably on the horizon:

Talking to my neighbors about their favorite garden fertilizers and why.

Discussing out loud stuff like dry skin or scalp flaking problems and what the best means of addressing them are.

Discussing what types of vitamins best promote good health.

Getting into earnest discussions with my male friends about toupees vs. the natural (bald as a damn eagle) look.

Arguing that music was only music back when it was on vinyl, not on these damn MP3 computer files that are so prevalent today.

Bemoaning the loss of pay phones and empathizing with the postal service’s current problems.

Whispering under my breath to my male neighbors about how the lady down the street does yard work in far too skimpy outfits.

If I start getting verbally long-winded on any of those things, especially that last item, then I’ll know I’m getting older than the pyramids and that I might as well start hiking my pants up under my armpits. I’ll truly know that old age has set in, and that park benches and clogging in those awful square dancing outfits are in my future. A future even more dismal than being given the complete works of Perry Como in MP3 format, and that should make any adult with a reasonable set of eardrums moan the blues.

Time to wrap this up, my friends. I know this week’s article was pretty much a downer, but y’all will be much happier with next week’s. In next week’s epistle we’ll talk about why prunes are an incredibly wonderful food, why they’re misunderstood, why our elected officials ought to aggressively promote them to their constituents, why Post should start making “Prune Toasties,” why……