Aging…? I’m Not A Cheese

“Ten signs of physical aging-”

taken from a women’s magazine

discovered in a doctor’s office-


You don’t think I would buy something like this, do you?

“Lose weight by eating cabbage till you stink,

“do fourteen sets of repetitions for your rear end only…”

Anyway, as I said…

from a women’s mag in a doctor’s office…

Men reading it would either be trying to figure out

what to talk to women about to get them in bed,

or turn the page fast and reach for some political, car, or financial mag.



More like many years of watching men read magazines in doctors offices.

So anyway…

“10 signs of physical aging-”

1. when you groan when you have to get your body out of bed in the morning-

hey, I was a gymnast.

I did that at ten.

2. turkey neck-


a turkey neck is what keeps a turkey’s head from sitting on his collar bone.

People have character lines.

and a swan-like demeanor-

which is why they aren’t carved for thanksgiving.

3. sore feet.

sore feet? From six hours of square dancing? Walking to the top of a mountain,

standing in line with grandkids to ride some popular ride at Disneyworld,

or to get tickets to a kids’ rock concert?

4. age spots-

those are beauty marks. Get used to it.

And here, since I could go on and on about the other six things

people seem to think are marks of my ancient and withered appearance,

(you want me to wear a heavy hot hairdo with bangs to hide my character lines?)

I think I’ll just slam the magazine closed.

(if you want to read it, or any other of the hundreds of magazines or online posts

about smearing your face with peanut butter and oatmeal

so your husband won’t leave you for a younger woman, be my guest-

mine has morals and a healthy wife who would take his head off if he tried it)

Oh, and as to real aging?

It’s in the mind.

And how you deal with things.

Which influences how your body reacts.

Which influences how you look.

From avoiding life till you look like a prune,

conserving yourself, till you look like canned raspberries.

battering yourself against everything till you look like a raw steak,

or coating yourself in teary salt water,

till you look like a wrinkled gherkin.


I think I just want to be the old broad on roller skates with a kite in my hand.

Hey, you don’t see Winnie the Pooh getting any older, do you?

copyright 2016


2 thoughts on “Aging…? I’m Not A Cheese

  1. Hear, hear! Anyway, old age and treachery will always beat youth and exuberance, so I just combine old age, treachery, and exuberance and make the youngsters wonder why I’m grinnin’ all the time like I just thought up a dirty joke. (I did.)

    Liked by 1 person

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