As the freezing fog gathers in the meadow and the log crackles in the grate, what better time to settle in the inglenook with a small glass of brandy and ask oneself the big questions? I take a little sip, let the fire’s radiant heat warm my cockles and begin to ponder. The first teaser is an issue that has troubled man since first we swung down from the trees:
“How, Dear Sweet Lord of Mercy, can one body produce so much snot and phlegm?”
It has been a big month for me. A few weeks ago I was stood in front of the bathroom mirror squinting at my reflection through my fingers when I spotted something. Looking down, I exclaimed:
“What the +*^% is that?”.
Something unfamiliar was dangling from me. It turned out to be my first grey chest hair. I decided not to let it bother me. A few days later I was trying to persuade P that we should go to London Loves – a blogger friendly club night – and shake our booties till dawn. She gazed at me with an exquisite pity and I shambled off to scroll through the viagra spam in my inbox utterly defeated.
It was at that point that I had my moment of revelation: For too long I have been deferring gratification – putting things off. Why shouldn’t I go dancing? Why shouldn’t I start doing all the things I’ve always meant to do but been too timorous or too “sensible” to take on. It was all so clear to me. Then came a second epiphany: It’s here … the mid-life crisis. I felt the back of my head to see if a pony-tail had already begun to sprout.
What revelations has this year held for you?
I found my first few gray hairs.
But my “mom ponytail” has to go.
I’m turning a corner and will follow in the footsteps of soon-to-be-50 Madonna – that jewel of your British Empire – and start shaking my un-botoxed booty more.
I too am a one-person snot factory. If there was some way of harvesting it for biofuel, global warming would be history.
Stick to a motorbike. A ponytail wouldn’t suit you.
I live with a wife who is currently masquerading (very successfully) as a one-person snot factory.
It’s so exciting!
I never know which of the vast range of noises is going to visit me next. Or when!
And I’m going to buy a new motorbike (possibly a Kawasaki ER6f) in 2008. Pony tail not required. 🙂
Going to London Loves isn’t the sign of a mid-life crisis – it’s the sign of a very sensible, Britpop/indie/soul-loving man. Come to the next one! P can sit and look glamourous in a booth while you strut your stuff.
Merry Christmas, Moobs.
As long as the phrase “What’s your sign” didn’t come into play, I think you’re alright…
I dearly wish that I had an e-mail address for the great Moobs.
Sometimes it is because you have left me the funniest comment and I want to respond, but tonight it is because you leave me no choice but to post this bit of information on the internet.
I too found “a first” in the grey hair department.
Much.
Further.
South.
Oh, the shame.
My year has been mostly revelation free, I’m afraid. I did lots of new things, but don’t think I had any big revelations. I do wish you all the best with that mid life crisis though, when you buy the porsche, get a 911, they may be a mid life crisis cliche, but they’re a heck of a car 😉
Merry Christmas, Moobs, hope you and P have a great one!
Ah well, you know what news this years has brought, but as for midlife crises and not delaying gratification, you’re wise to dance the night away while you still can. And I? May just come out to London…
My revelation: I need to do a better job of sticking up for myself, rather than that oh-so-Southern thing of doing what’s necessary to keep the peace.
This lioness will roar in 2008.
In the meantime, I bid you and P a good holiday in one of the most fabulous cities on the planet,
Paige
I had my midlife crisis last year (at 36) I’m a premature ejaculator. I say go for it. Get it out of your system. Mine involved lots of nightclubs. It wasn’t that successful because the kids always woke me up at 6am while I had an awful hangover.
Please start growing your ponytail and buy a motorbike and leathers if you haven’t already.
Gosh, I’ll go dancing with you. You can call it a mid-life crisis, but I think we forget how to have fun while we are taking ourselves too seriously pursuing our stupid careers. Then, after proving ourselves a bit, we go “fuck this I want to have some fun!”
I think you should buy P. some hot lingerie, a fun short skirt, pretty heels and go for it. She’ll have a blast and beg you to go back. Gin works too. Or you can try salsa – that’s more structured, great exercise…. Of course, for me? everything goes back to the hot expensive lingerie! 🙂
You know what I say to a gray chest hair? A short visit with the cerologist and wha la! Clean chested and in denial again.
Let’s see… this year… I learned this year that I can accomplish a lot more if I do it one micro step at a time. More than anything, I don’t remember the tiny step – not eating that piece of chocolate, 10 minutes of dreaded aerobic exercise, an hour priming the basement – when it’s all done. I just revel in the outcome – lost weight, non-cavelike basement.
I reconfirmed my belief that people are good and that love is all that matters.
Love you man! Happy New Year!
Don’t go buying any expensive, ridiculous sports cars either . . .
Well, I hope your Christmas was merry, despite the one, teeny tiny gray hair!
I also have ponytail fright as I’m am 41 and feeling my mortality full force. I’ve also completely abandoned athletic activity as I am too injury prone.
Happy Holidays.
Cheers,
~Mitch
I wish you had an email address too, Moobs, so I could send you love letters, or at the very least, letters bemoaning the fact that you don’t post enough. (I don’t either, but hopefully that will change in the New Year).
Ah, “Oh the Joys” said it first … I have to agree that the gray hairs to which she refers are more intimidating than gray chest hair, but perhaps only because I do not have chest hair of my own, gray or otherwise.
What have I learned during 2007? Hmm. Nothing that qualifies as a revelation, I’m afraid. Maybe next year!
2007 – thank God that’s over. the only revelation I’ve had this year is about trust and things! Ooo, and, that if I ignore Bloglines for more than a day I get into trouble!
Hope 2008 brings you all the good things you desire. All the best to you and P. X
At least it wasn’t ginger, ay moobs?
*hides*
The worst thing about grey hairs not on your head, is that there’s not much you can do with them. It’s not like you can dye them. I imagine…
Well, that aside, happy, happy, happy new year to you and P.
I’m too young for a mid life crisis, so no ponytail for me, but this year has taught me that I need to pace myself better. Trying to do too much in a short space of time is very exhausing. I can do it, and because I can do it I cram too much in and then get annoyed when it doesn’t work out as well as I’d hoped.
Ho Hum.
I found my first grey pube the other day. Do you know what the worst thing about it was?
…It was in my kebab 🙂
Badoomtish!