No Guarantees

The tribulations of adolescence are undignified in middle age.

I didn’t just tweet that. I was going to, but without explanation it sounds more profound than I feel. Besides, there are times when “25 words or less” won’t do, and a curmudgeonly rant is one of them. Are your seat belts on, my darling children? Here we go.

The blessings of middle age include a generosity of spirit regarding one’s own appearance. Once hygiene is provided for, the rest is negotiable and the currency is comfort.

Speaking of comfort, the sleep situation reverses itself midway through life. Once upon a time I felt like a rogue warrior when I stayed up all night and lurched through the subsequent day. Now I’m inordinately proud if I manage to rack up more than 7 consecutive hours of unconsciousness.

Equanimity comes with age. Despite going ballistic yesterday over something that was merely annoying, for the most part I don’t care about things the way I used to.

But what about the adolescent tribulations, you ask. Reasonable of you, and I did promise. Not for me to break a covenant, so I will share too much: There is an unsightly pimple on my face.

Forget sagacity and wisdom, if I came with a warranty, I’d demand my money back.