You're Only as Old as You Look
My 34th birthday is on the horizon. It's still three weeks away, but it might as well be tomorrow. In fact, I might as well be turning 50. For the last few days in particular, I've felt my birthday lurking in the shadows. Watching me. Deciding when to strike. Noticing how nice my ass looks in these pants. Feeling confused and exhilarated at the same time. Maybe my 34th birthday is very gay. Hard to say for sure, but it's there and I can sense its presence. I feel old.

Making matters worse is that I bought some v-neck undershirts over the weekend. Nothing says "I'm an old man" like a v-neck undershirt. Well, that's not exactly true. Book shopping for Louis L'Amour titles is definitely an old man thing to do. Wearing shorts with dark socks is pretty old man, too. I'm not quite to that level yet even with my new undershirts, but I'm scared I'm just a few weeks from buying a Lincoln Town Car and humming when I eat.

In my defense, I couldn't help it. I had to buy them because I seem to have so many dress shirts that have the next-to-the-top button in no man's land and when I wear the standard crew neck undershirt underneath, the top two inches is visible in the gap between the collars of the dress shirt (great article here about undershirts, fellas). Not a good look if you ask me. So that's why I bought the v-necks. I'm wearing one today as a matter of fact. My chest hair sticks out a little at the low point on the V and I kinda feel like disco dancing. Fortunately, my chest hair is not visible to my co-workers. I imagine displaying my chest hair instead of the two inches of the old crew neck collar wouldn't exactly be an even tradeoff for them, nor would it be a style upgrade for me.

So, anyway. This is just the latest example of me realizing I'm not going to live forever. The clock on my computer says it's 11:31 a.m. I'm already an hour late for lunch. Suppertime will be here at 4 and then it's a warm glass of milk and off to bed right after the 7 o'clock news.