They are as subtle as a thief in the night.
Old man noises.
When exactly did they start?
At what point exactly does it become mandatory that there be a groaning sound accompanied with every attempt to become vertical?
I don’t sit on the ground. With the exception of the hour a day when I may or may not go to the gym, I refuse to let my hips break parallel with my knees unless I know that something soft is going to envelope me. Preferably whatever envelopes me will have a handle on the right side and will lay me back into the “feed me/sleep” utility position, also known as a recliner.
Because somewhere along the way it has become like a circus show to try to get up. The old man noises have gotten out of hand.
I watched two Bison fight on the internet yesterday. It sounded exactly like me trying to get up off of my son’s bedroom floor after I finished spanking him in the original Nintendo version of Techmo Bowl.
I can’t think of the last time that I spread my arms to stretch or yawn where it did not mimic a scene from Predator.
I don’t read the insurance questionnaires. It’s too much work and they are really boring. I always just check “no” and then look at the last couple of questions to find the “yes” answer, which they put in there to make sure you are paying attention. I’m hoping that modern medicine has discovered a link between making old man noises and mortality.
Old man noises are a form of disease. It spreads through your body, vertically. It starts with grunting while getting up the floor. It begins when getting up off the ground requires so much effort that when you stand, you have to look around with a goofy look on your face, pretending that you are not about to faint, while waiting for the stars to quit twinkling around your eyes, because of whatever the hell happens when you start getting old. Quickly thereafter, you have to verbally heave your way from the kneeling position. Pretty soon, you have to make noises each time you stand up from your chair, after getting a good practice rock for momentum.
I have started to look like I am preparing to skydive from an airplane every time I stand up from the kitchen table. And, when you are getting really close to passing the Grey Poupon, that’s when you just start muttering old man noises even standing upright, not exerting any energy at all.
All I know is that it didn’t used to be this hard. Somewhere along the way, I have found myself entering rooms and surveying the landscape to see what kid or object I am going to grab onto if I should happen to find myself on the floor for any reason.
I used to think that getting old was just an excuse that lazy old men used to avoid throwing the football with their kids or having to do any more than necessary. It turns out that it’s actually a thing.
Getting old sucks.
Peace, Love, and all things Beef related,