I despise being predictable so my better half gifted me with an honest to goodness whole-sized hairy ape suit. The wife knows that like most oldsters I’m guilty of being a slave to the mundane, or any Dane for that matter when they don’t keep their HANS to themselves. So she reasoned that this pili present will help me be playfully outrageous and a little ‘OTTER’ than I already am while selfishly shucking shellfish and waiting to die of gout.
Ok, it’s a little weird but who’s to say my broken down Silverback must act like a grown-up instead of the virile great-ape geezer that I was always meant to be? These days more than my age is showing since I’ve already crossed over to the dark side looking pretty good wearing bulky black socks with Bermuda shorts – even though they make zipping up for Bingo brunch a bit brutal. So what if I don’t have boundless energy anymore like a jumpy puppy from days gone by? Before this monkey suit, I was practically hairless which means I use less shampoo on the ‘doo’ and still drool better than most grizzled hot dogs built in the same era.
Anyway it’s not all bad; now as an elder I can rudely stare at people with weird piercings and body art longer than I should and chalk it up to advancing dementia . Also as compared to when I was in high school, my self-confidence and blood pressure have grown to such a high degree, that I can actually fry eggs on my flat-iron head. My extensive experience with underwear labeling has led me to have ‘no fear’ of placing microwave popcorn bags ‘upside down’ to cook, even though they callously insist ‘this side up’.
The truth is that there are some distinct benefits for knuckle-walkers like me with a first class ticket on the wrinkled troop-train. I do believe with age comes wisdom, though for me the dentist says MINE got tossed with the four molars he pulled. Clearly my problem is rooted in the fact that as I whither, shrivel, & hunch breathlessly toward ol' ape-age, I’m no longer the top banana and TOO predictable by growing OUT far more than growing up. Good thing though, because what better way to fill-out my Koko Gorilla garb and greet unsuspecting freeway flyers with my newly mastered single finger sign language.