old man in my mirror

Being surrounded everday at work by younger people and raising a little girl has finally combined into a powerful epiphany, so sublimely obvious yet desperately overlooked by me - I'm getting older.

It's not that I'm experiencing physical "old man" age symptoms: no athritis, horrible back pains, no scaly skin. I'm in reasonable health (despite my smoking), my erections are fine (haha), and I walk everyday.

And it's not a matter of mentality. I still find myself thinking like a young man sometimes, especially when I need to do something absurd or find myself in truly peculiar circumstances.

What I have noticed about myself is that I have, unknown to myself, started to enjoy (and expect) things older people like.

For example, my now weekly visits to my barber. I have my head shaved every other week, and have the rest of my face shaved weekly. In addition to all that shearing, I get a free massage.

Anyway, I end up on my back at the barber's, listening to the news on the radio, commenting on the distressing events that color local politics. My barber and I exchange small talk, and I realize that - with the addition of a chess set - I have become my grandfather.

I also enjoy quiet places, eschewing loud music and silly babble. I find myself appalled by what passes for fashion - too much revealed from people who have too little to show. And of course I find myself thinking of the future - which really was not a dominant part of my mental landscape.

What I, an old-man-errant, want is this: more time to grow with my daughter.

And maybe write one hell of a book.