At the gym this morning, there seemed to be an unusually large number of high school age and college age male athlete types. Most were in extremely good shape, all cocky and muscled up, full of testosterone. As I’m almost 63, it would be easy for me to ponder the follies of aging and get all depressed about the contrasts between them and me. As I thought about this at length, it was with a deeply felt sigh that I concluded, “Man, oh man, am I glad I don’t have to suffer through blue balls anymore!”
3 comments:
I always look at those fucksticks and grin. They inturn do nothing but slink away, wondering why someboy who's half a hunsky could probably kick their asses.
Fucking kids...
Dick
The legendary cellist Pablo Casals was interviewed by Morley Safer on 60 Minutes. Casals was telling Safer how he likes to start his day with three hours of practice. Morley Safer interrupted him, "The great Pablo Casals practices three hours a day--why?" And Pablo answered, "Because I think I'm getting somewhere." Ha! Every time I practice my vocal sight reading--and every time I go to the gym, I just repeat to myself, "Well, I think I'm getting somewhere, too." Sure, I will never sing like Casals played and I will never look like an athlete, but, by God, I, for one, am getting somewhere!
Or as I like to say, Richard, I've learned to look reality in the eye and deny it!
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