Geez, I'm tired.

We men kind of have an issue with our ages. Now, don't get me wrong. I think women are way out in front when it comes to issues with age. We don't help matters when we divorce our wife of thirty years to marry our secretary who is young enough to be our daughter or even our grand daughter. We, as men, somehow kind of appreciate that and wink and chest bump and just kind of quietly nod at those things. That is totally wrong and a true man doesn't accept it for very long. But really all we truly want to do is take a nap. Yeah, sure the physical side might be good for a while but eventually, Bambi is going to want us to take her skiing with her friends at Lake Placid and frankly, our new hip and knee just doesn't feel like it. We skied when we were with the Rangers in the Alps in Northern Italy and it really wasn't any fun then so what makes us think it will be any fun now? Especially since we don't get to shoot at anyone. But for a lot of us men who are hanging in there with our wives and modeling shear toughness of heart to our kids, that is not an option. We still climb the ladder to paint the eaves, throw the ball for the dog, wash the truck and mow the lawn, after our morning run/walk. All of this done in one long day. We're fine with that. But there is something that stops us in our wanderings and makes us do the math.

I was just at Home Depot, "the Temple" to men and women everywhere. If Jesus were alive today, he'd be wearing an orange apron in the 'fastener' aisle between molly bolts and 8 penny nails. Yep, God is alive and well at "the Temple." So, while I was checking out, the middle-aged woman at the counter smiled and was being very friendly. But she said some words that made me forget which card I was going to debit the item I was purchasing. "Did you find everything you were looking for today YOUNG MAN?" Holy Crap!

Every man reading this, every person, young or old, who has an X and Y flowing through their veins, knows what I am talking about. That term is withheld for two branches of the sex-those that are truly 'young men' and those that are pulling an oxygen tank and a clear hose line running from it shoved up their nose while operating a cane with the four little feet on them, all while dressed in a pair of striped shorts, a plaid shirt, and black socks and black dress shoes-scuffed.

'Young man'? Really? Am I that old? Am I that far along that I need a cane with the four little rubber bottomed feet on it? I do have shorts but there are no stripes and this is just the reason I hate plaid.

I do love my bed though.

Oh, and I could eat dinner, like, now.

The end to a perfect day is in bed reading until I pass out, about a page to two later--before 9:30.

I'm starting to buy named brand underwear, while throwing away the old stuff-not trying to patch it with that patch kit you use to iron on for denim holes like your mom did when you broke open a hole in the knees of your jeans when you were twelve. Levi jeans didn't have a number then. They were just Levis-sold at Yellow Front.

The mines have me on their Christmas card list for the gold crowns I have in my mouth.

When you touch my knees, they're warm. I think my daughter said that's a sign of 'inflammation.'

I floss--------twice a day.

I make sure we have double-ply, extra soft, toilet paper. Even if it means paying more for it.

I'm going to doctors I don't want to talk about, nor can I pronounce their speciality; so I use the standard street lingo for what they do.

Soup sounds good.

I want to buy a Harley but my daughters say "No, way, you'll die." I haven't bought one yet only because there's no air-conditioning on them.

The critical factor for the car we just bought was electric windows AND seats.

I cry at Jack in the Box commercials.

Look, I think I'm still pretty young. I can't go chase down a bad guy anymore. They would lose me in the first hundred yards, okay--ten yards. But the point is, I've grown smarter. God gives us brains, if we live long enough, to make up for the youth we've lost--no--really lost. Instead of chasing down Evil, I would drive the car and run them over. Then, its all in the way you tell the story.

I'm a good story teller.