ccording the media targeting senior citizens, I should have all my hair, be thin, and going off to play tennis (all day?) with my elf-princes wife.

Sure, sure.

As it is, I’ve got many life-injuries that ache a little more each day. And I’m missing my prostate, so I’m dealing with pelvic floor muscle exercises at every stop light. Getting up and bending under things gets harder and harder.

Yes, it sucks. Getting older ain’t for sissies, right?

While the physical is bad, the mental is worse. I’ve been dispatching our model railroad club (controlling trains) for over twenty years now. I’m one of the fastest dispatchers I know – I’ve run ball-breaker (no relation to prostate cancer) layout with a smile on my face. But in the last few years, I notice that I’m just a touch slower at it. Some of the younger guys I’ve trained are possibly better than I am now. And I accept that.

But what is hard to accept are the declines I see around me. All of my friends (except possibly the vampires) are getting older and their mental changes are more terrifying. I’ve had life-time friends spark at me over little things, and they are getting so “off” that they tell me they are mad with me over and over. I’ve seen grays lose their shit in restaurants over little things (good restaurants that I am now reluctant to return back to, given  our association). I’ve had friends suddenly get more grumpy, more angry. I closely watched an in-law decline into gentle madness. From time to time, even my wife shows a bit of goofiness. Cute, yes, but potentially terrifying.

A lot of old people (without our life-long experience with corruption in media and fake news sources), gulp it down like children coaxed to drink rat poison (and look at the shambles of our crumbling democracy). And worse, they are susceptible to every little scam. I won’t pick up a phone call from any unknown number. If it’s important, I figure they’ll leave a message. I know elders who pick it right up an engage with these confidence tricksters, to sometimes devastating lose.

As for myself, I’ve shaken off a few friends over recent years, small arguments that crumbled decade-long friendships. And I wonder if I’m just standing up for myself or drawing a line in the sand of my eventual grave. I can’t tell you. It’s too close for me to make it out.

But there were no real awareness for this, no preparation. Sure, I knew about it but didn’t know it might claim a friend, a parent, a club-member. But now?

No elfin wives with sparkling eyes and tennis whites. Now every little verbal stumble brings me thoughtful pause (as thoughtful as I can manage).

I mean, if there is a god, WTF?

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