Some Things Don't Matter as Much

The Old Farts I run into ... oops! ... those of my compatriots who are Playing in the Last Quarter that I meet ... friends, visitors to my office, people who are the age of my grandparents as I first remember them, me ... these people don't seem to have the same lists of bugbears ... of things that bother them. .................................................  Older Men and Women may still look at the Hotties and Hunks that strut their stuff somewhere out there in the Late Middle Aged Fog that exists beyond growing cataracts, but the softer-edged person laying next to them in bed is still a welcome partner in Olympic Style Paired Horizontal Aerobics. Haven't heard anyone kvetch: "God ... I went to bed with a Prince/Bridget Bardot and woke up with a Frog/Grandma." Instead, I hear people smiling at the kindness represented by asking their lover after coitus if they're OK, fearing the so-called "Big One" ... the Myocardial Infarction that ends the dance and the dancing. Haven't heard anyone complain about the inherent humor of asking after intercourse: "Do you remember if I took my dulcolax, today?" and many have laughed, telling me of such occurrences ...................................... I suspect the great writer of the German language, Goethe, must've been older when he penned: "Mach es kurz, Am Jungsten Tag ist's nur eine ferze" .... 'make it snappy for on the Day of Judgement  whatever it is ... is little else than a singular fart.' There's that word, again, 'Fart.' When one enters the Kingdom of Dotage, one pays less attention to such gastro-intestinal happenings as when friends or, for that matter, near and dear and the people who occasion my office get up from the dinner table with a put-putting sound feeling their way to the nearest bathroom. ....................................  But so much else loses its bite, as well. ............................ The food begins to taste good because someone still wants to shop for you or cook for you .......................... Indeed, in good relationships, who cooks and who does the little chores that younger folk may fight over takes on less meaning ........................ The Grim Reaper may actually become the sleep Doctor who finally cures you of middle-aged sleep patterns ....................... the social slaps and slings and arrows of life take on a lesser meaning .................................. "She/He doesn't like me? Well, I don't exactly like her/him either."Remember the time that was important ... being part of the in-group ... the cool group .... or the group that has that cute ^&$% in it ....  ...........................  I haven't heard any of these older folk complaining about the absence of multiple orgasms and, as a group, we are thankful everytime a car (Grandma called it 'the machine') starts. Wow! Look, Grandpa. No drying off ignition cables, no silicone sprays when it rains, none of that crank-crank-crank. (I might actually revekl in once more hearing that crank-crank-crank sound out of something I wasn't married to ... LOL). .................. Perfectly clean glassware doesn't seem to matter as much after 70. ...................... I remember one visitor to my office, a round woman with a round husband, describing their sexual encounters with joy but noting that it would have looked to her 20 years before as something like moving around heavy machinery or fontloaders ... slogging through the mud! ........................  Life can be a good teacher! ..................... Think I'll spend parts of today thinking about the things that don't bother me as much.