Johnny Scott is Getting Old

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We’re all getting older. There’s no escaping it. But it’s not all bad. In fact, there are a lot of advantages to getting on in years that you may not even think of. Like anything, it’s got its pros and cons, but with the right attitude the good can definitely outweigh the bad. Let’s look at a few examples.

Sleep. Boy oh boy, when I was in my early to mid twenties I hardly slept at all. Between bars and parties and drugs and hanging out with all my cool friends and all the anonymous unprotected sex I was having, I just didn’t have time for it. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” I’d proclaim to the universe at 6pm, starry-eyed on ‘ludes and 56 hours since my last rest, from the sunroof of a limousine while raining champagne upon all the poor chumps on their way home from work to eat dinner and fall asleep reading at 9 o’clock.

Well, I’ve hit 30, and I’m still breathing, but maybe all that partying made me die inside, because now I sleep all the time. Not even intentionally a lot of the time. I’ll fall asleep watching TV or at the movies or on a bus bench. I’ve taken impromptu naps in restaurant washroom stalls, during job interviews, and while driving. And you know what? I’m okay with it. More than okay. I’ve realized that I’ve been missing out all these years. Sleep is the best. Hell, I just slept for five hours between writing that last sentence and this one. And I’m thinking of sleeping for a few more before the next paragraph.

Music is another thing that changes drastically as you age. Or, more accurately, your reaction to music. I remember the days when I couldn’t wait to get my hands on the latest albums from the popular music groups of the era. The days when I wanted more than anything to shock those around me with the edgy sounds that I was hip enough to be into. Going to concerts, the louder the better, and leaving with ringing ears and spattered with every manner of bodily fluid. Nowadays, though, things are different. I don’t care much for the new music of today. If you can call it music. Sounds more like a lot of noise to me.Nope, I’m pretty set in my ways now. I’ve even begun to regress, I think. Some of the stuff I used to love to listen to is a little too rowdy for my current tastes. Just set me in my recliner with my slippers and put on a little Chicago and I’ll be perfectly content. If I’m feeling particularly exuberant I might switch it up to some Steely Dan. As far as live music goes, my criteria haven’t changed much. All I really look for in a venue these days is if it has a comfy corner somewhere where I can nod off for a couple hours during the show.

Of course, one of the biggest things that changes as you get older is sex. Gone are my days of hitting the scene in search of scandalous one night stands, of blurry cavalcades of so many nameless women, of being able to achieve or maintain an erection without pharmaceutical aid. No, I’ve slowed down as time’s gone by, but what time has taken away from me in quantity, experience has bestowed upon me in quality, if you know what I mean. What I mean, of course, is that if I can make it through even six minutes of semi-vigorous intercourse, afterwards I’ll be down for a good nine hours of solid, quality slumber.

What else? Hmm, my eyesight’s getting pretty bad, and I can’t really remember how much of I’ve said about… whatever it was I was talking about. My memory isn’t so good these days either. Oh yeah! I was telling you about the time I ran for office and was beat by a golden retriever. No. I was telling you my secret steak marinade recipe. Or, was it… well, it’ll come back to me. Just give me a little while to rest.   Photo by Jyle Dupuis via Flickr

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