I want to talk about getting old. Today is my birthday and I have now been alive for thirty-two years. If the light that burns twice as bright only burns half as long, then it is safe to say that the light that burns half as bright burns twice as long. Based on that logic, I should be looking at a lifespan of about 200 years because I still feel as if I haven’t done much living as of yet. Thirty-two sounds old but I definitely don’t feel old. In fact, I am in a constant battle of self-improvement and I must say that if time travel were possible then I would be able to beat the living shit out of my twenty-two year old self in both physical and mental tests. However, traveling backwards in time is not possible and never will be; otherwise we would already know about it even if we haven’t invented it yet. I hope that the upcoming movie “Looper” will dive into that deep thought.
Due to my ongoing quest for self-improvement I feel as if I am aging quite gracefully. This could also simply be an optical illusion because of the vast difference in body mass and wrinkles when I compare myself to other Midwesterners in my age group. Working at Skipper Skully and Captain Dwayne’s Hickory Dock across from campus probably plays a part in my personal views of Midwestern aging and obesity, as it is a common feeding lot for ham planets and earthquakes.
Just the other day while I was throwing chum to the landwhales during my shift on the Hickory Dock, a 300-pound ambulocetus ordered the famous Fatty Stuffed Tuberous Plant with extra butter and sour cream on it. When I placed the food before the purchaser’s blowhole she immediately belched out a complaining whale song because she could not actually see the extra butter and sour cream underneath the small hill of cheese, meat, and sugary sauce on top of the starch laden and calorie dense plant. I told her that the extra butter and sour cream was underneath all of the other shit but she continued to whine about not being able to see the extra crap that she spent a whopping dollar for. Apparently she found great stress over the fact that her food was not as visually fattening as it was calorically. This massive female mammal appeared to be in her early sixties but was most likely in her fifties or possibly even her late forties. Eating whale food makes people age quickly. So I gave her another scoop of butter and sour cream as a peace offering and she receded back into the water to regroup with her pod.
I have no qualms about making fun of the obese, maybe obese children but not obese adults. Ten years ago I would have agreed with the idea that being overweight is genetic but after studying nutrition and being a personal trainer for a few years, I know that the genetic excuse is bullshit. Neither fat nor muscle is made out of thin air; hence the saying that “you are what you eat”. That saying is very true and anyone can gain or lose weight by changing their diet and activities. Some people are more genetically prone to being thin and some gain weight easily, but those factors are both based on how much a person eats and how many calories they burn. You can’t bitch about your genetics because everyone has to play the cards they’ve been dealt and your cards are just as good and bad as anyone else’s. There comes a time in everybody’s life when they must face the facts and know that it is unhealthy for them to continue to eat like a ten-year-old while having the activity level of a quadriplegic. On a side note, I find it funny that the fatty-butts at Chick-fil-A consider obesity to be genetic and homosexuality to be a choice. Just a funny thought.
However, not all landwhales are created equal. On that same shift at the dock, a very large and interesting bull whale entered the quayside for feasting. He was wearing dark navy blue Champion sweat pants, a faded blue and red Hawaiian button up shirt, Pro-Wing soccer shoes, and a fucking cowboy hat to top it off. He looked like an overweight and mentally retarded Clint Eastwood. He looked like the kind of guy that pulls his pants down around his ankles and lifts up the front of his shirt while peeing in a urinal. Just saying, this guy looked like a genuine moron. Then he smiled at me and ordered a large bovine sandwich. His voice sounded just like Sam Elliot’s and he was the nicest son of a bitch in the world. We made small talk about the drought or some stupid shit and he was a cool guy and everything. He cleaned up after himself and even tipped me a dollar when he left. So maybe I can’t always judge a book by its cover, even if that cover is the size of a parking lot.
Anyway, it’s my birthday. I have no plans of celebrating it until Sunday when my parents will take me out to eat. We’ll have seafood because that’s my favorite. Yesterday I celebrated by lifting weights until I nearly passed out. I consider physical activity to be the best way for celebrating the fact that I’m still alive and able to be physical. I’ve always considered birthdays to be a bummer and have never been a big celebrator of my own day of birth. It’s another year gone, why have a party over that? Also, if I am the third coming of Christ then I’m sure that I’ll be discovering that over this next year. I say the third coming of Christ because Bruce Lee was the second coming of Christ. Jesus supposedly died when he was thirty-three and Bruce Lee died just before he turned thirty-three, so I hope that I’m not the third coming of Christ because I’d like to live a while longer. I have returned from the dead once and although I can’t turn water into wine I can make some unusually delicious alcoholic drinks out of common ingredients. My friend, and neighbor, and coworker, Gordon Smitherschwartz can attest to that.
I’m also fully realizing how much I prefer to be around young people or at least people that still think young. Whenever I’m around someone my own age and they start bitching about how they’re not young anymore and mortgages and all that other boring shit, I blank them out entirely. Being around young people and youthful thoughts is what keeps people young. I will try my hardest to never lose my ability to think with a young mind. Having a young mind allows me to wonder. I wonder if this next year will be the greatest year of my life. Maybe this will be the year that I make my first million or get involved with the making of a movie. Maybe this will be the year that a woman makes an honest man out of me and I will finally lose my virginity. Or maybe it’ll just be another ordinary year.
And thank you to everyone that has wished me a happy birthday.