Thinking Younger
I just had a birthday, last week to be exact, and this year my
birthday coincided with election day. I was unhappily forced to share my day in
the sun with the presidential candidates and a whole raft of other politicians
who wanted to shoulder their way to the public trough. As my birthday waned, the
election returns filtered in over the long night and I found myself thinking
about my mental age versus my actual physical age. That line of thought provoked
an inevitable comparison of my age and psyche with that of our new
president-elect Donald Trump. My mental age, I concluded, is somewhat older
than our new president-elect even though our physical ages are comparable with
me being just a tad older. It seemed to me that during the campaign Trump acted
like a thirteen-year old whereas I assessed my maturity somewhat higher
-perhaps about the age where young men just begin to think about consequences
of irrational behavior. What I mean is, sometimes I act like a kid, but not all
the time. And I like it.
The election seemed to show that childish behavior isn’t all
bad. Since outrageousness paid off so richly for Donald Trump, I decided that
from now on, I am going to cultivate being young again. I decided to begin by counting
down instead of up on each of my birthdays. And not just by a year or two, I am
thinking to reduce my age by five or ten years at a clip. Soon, I’ll be wearing
short pants again.
I have already started practicing on getting younger. This
week I got a brand-new bike – a real humdinger that will allow me to roam the
neighborhood with abandon. As if to add an exclamation point to my enthusiasm
for youth, yesterday, I installed a fancy new toolkit on the bike’s saddle that
looks really rad. And today, I attached a carry-all bag over the rear tire where
I can keep a cold one, new sunglasses and whatever else I need to look cool
while I pedal to the soda shop…er, make that the bakery since we don’t have a
soda shop. I may put my new high-top tennis shoes in the bag also just in case
I need them to complete my young man attire. If you think that is too much, you
should know that I do have certain standards; OMG no comb-overs nor orange face
paint since I earned my wrinkles and hair loss honestly.
Do you think streamers on the handlebar grips of new bike is
too much? LOL.
Signed:
Your Ever-Young Friend Who Thinks Silliness is a Virtue
