Age comes upon a person with relentless ferocity, churning ever forward.
This is not all bad. Getting older has its benefits. For one thing I've gotten smarter -- or at least it seems that way. For another I've gotten wiser -- ditto. In some ways I've gotten better looking -- double ditto.
It's not all good, either. Eventually of course, death comes -- sooner for some than others. But even for those of us lucky enough to hang around for a while, some weird things occur.
For instance it wasn't until about age 45 that I began to snore. Until then I was a quiet sleeper, and proud of it. Then one morning my wife mentioned that I had snored a little the night before. I remembered finding this amusing. The second time she told me also was funny. But the third, tenth, fiftieth became not the least big funny, because I had no desire to ruin her sleep anymore than my own. And make no mistake: snoring wrecks it for both of you. My wife is kept awake by the noise, and I'm kept awake by my wife shaking my shoulder and saying, "Jim, you're snoring ... Jim, you're snoring ..." while I groggily respond, "Huh? What? ... Huh? What? ..."
The weirdest thing about snoring is how the snorer doesn't have a clue. I can be lying there making enough noise to terrify a nearby werewolf, and yet I'm blissfully unaware of it. As far as I'm concerned, I'm as silent as a baby.
After my wife has woken me up a couple of times, I then enter into a sort of half-sleep in which I'm fighting not to fall back all the way, which will bring on the inevitable snoring again. I figure that if I can stay awake long enough for her to fall asleep, then maybe I can sneak off after that and not disturb her.
Oh well, what can you do? Age is that way.
Let's not even get into balding, pot bellies, and hair on my ears.
The good news is I don't have that one problem that comes with age! Fit as a fiddle there -- triple ditto. :)
This is not all bad. Getting older has its benefits. For one thing I've gotten smarter -- or at least it seems that way. For another I've gotten wiser -- ditto. In some ways I've gotten better looking -- double ditto.
It's not all good, either. Eventually of course, death comes -- sooner for some than others. But even for those of us lucky enough to hang around for a while, some weird things occur.
For instance it wasn't until about age 45 that I began to snore. Until then I was a quiet sleeper, and proud of it. Then one morning my wife mentioned that I had snored a little the night before. I remembered finding this amusing. The second time she told me also was funny. But the third, tenth, fiftieth became not the least big funny, because I had no desire to ruin her sleep anymore than my own. And make no mistake: snoring wrecks it for both of you. My wife is kept awake by the noise, and I'm kept awake by my wife shaking my shoulder and saying, "Jim, you're snoring ... Jim, you're snoring ..." while I groggily respond, "Huh? What? ... Huh? What? ..."
The weirdest thing about snoring is how the snorer doesn't have a clue. I can be lying there making enough noise to terrify a nearby werewolf, and yet I'm blissfully unaware of it. As far as I'm concerned, I'm as silent as a baby.
After my wife has woken me up a couple of times, I then enter into a sort of half-sleep in which I'm fighting not to fall back all the way, which will bring on the inevitable snoring again. I figure that if I can stay awake long enough for her to fall asleep, then maybe I can sneak off after that and not disturb her.
Oh well, what can you do? Age is that way.
Let's not even get into balding, pot bellies, and hair on my ears.
The good news is I don't have that one problem that comes with age! Fit as a fiddle there -- triple ditto. :)
