halfway there by terry ernest
AGInG
WITh
Dignity
If you can remember watching Moe slap the crap out of Curly while
hollering “Where’s your dignity? Where’s your dignity?” you’re prob-
ably halfway there.
In my wildest dreams as a sprouting mo I never thought I would achieve my
grandfather’s age or deal with those little encumbrances that claimed their share
of his self-esteem. As kids, we used to laugh at the foibles of our seniors however
dignified they presented. Most of their evolution through middle-age was cer-
tainly unknown to us and for me in particular, their passage was a well-denied
mystery. All of that came to an abrupt end in the last year when one fateful morn-
ing I looked in the mirror and saw my father’s eyes starring back at me. In startling
flashes of recollection I could see my grandfather standing there too. And while I
loved my father and my grandfather I was not ready to stand as a peer. A moment
like that, however enlightening or true, makes you fall back on your heels won-
dering ‘what the hell happened.’ At first I felt a little like Shirley MacLaine reliving a
previous incarnation but that was just wishful thinking. Oh my God, I am halfway
there, just like they were when I was a kid. I wasn’t ready for that. I’m still not.
Oh sure, my left knee can predict the weather better than Willard Scott or that
giggling fool on KUSI and my hair dresser works tirelessly trying to cut off only the
grey hairs… but I’m still young, damn it.
The reality is that past a certain age we all physically evolve into the back nine
whether we are emotionally ready or not. I do have one question though, who is
the comedian that came up with the rules? Just when experience has taught us
that it is more important to wash your hands before you pee you discover that
oh-so dignified hoochy-koochy you have to perform to keep from wetting your
pants. And trust me; it is 10 times worse than the classic frat prank, sleeping hand
in bucket of warm water. But it can be dignified. I took two seven-year old boys in that damn mirror and realized that those follicular cowards retreating from my
to the San Diego Zoo once and after a bottle of water, an iced tea and a Mr. Pibb, I forehead weren’t getting lost, they were just moving to new locations. And while
made a bee-line to the restroom. On the march one of boys said, “I know, I know, I am a staunch supporter of ‘to each his own,’ Abe Vigoda’s attempt to stylize a
wash your hands after you pee.” Always on the alert to help educate our witty forest of hair sprouting from each ear just doesn’t work for me. And there is no way
youth, I remarked that after touching everything at the zoo it was a wise man that to dignify hair growing out of your ears or Baryshnikov eyebrows except to be
washed his hands before he peed. I certainly came to hate that acumen when the ever vigilant with the latest pluck and prune techniques.
boys laughed and asked if I always did that crazy rubber dance when I washed And then there’s my favorite aging burden, trying to read a menu in a restaurant.
my hands. Daunted, but not willing to show it, I calmly remarked that the pelvic What kind of sick joke is that? I can remember reading adult magazines under
gyrations helped to keep the water from splashing on my pants. They giggled, the covers with nothing more than a flickering pen light – okay, looking at the
then they tried it and we all had a good laugh. pictures. Today I need 8000 watts and a magnifying glass to find the Chilean Cabs
If you want more comedy to test your determination to age with dignity, take on the wine list. What I wouldn’t give to have arms that were five inches longer. I’d
a look at those goofy changing hair patterns. Baldness aside, as fortunately I not only be able to read better but all that extra hair would probably seem more
have what most men would call a reasonably full head of hair. I am finding hair natural. After all, what looks more dignified than an adult gorilla?
growing in places that defies even the most sophisticated Vulcan logic. As a kid If you quote Shakespeare at dinner parties you are probably halfway there too.
seeing most grown-up men with some degree of male-pattern baldness I’m sure
I concluded that it was a normal side effect of growing up. It wasn’t until I looked
feedback?
halfwaythere@ragemonthly.com
26 RAGE monthly | MAY 2009
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