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.
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