The Joke’s On Me
By: Sue Kiker
Tags: Growing Old, Humor, Old Age, Aging

So far, every punch line I’ve ever read about aging is true. (You know you’re getting old when you bend over to pick something up off the floor and you ask yourself if there’s anything else you might need to do while you’re down there.) The creaking and aching body parts, the forgetfulness, and the crotchety-ness are all real. For many women, there’s the added bonus of menopause, making aging an even more exciting adventure. The jokes about hot flashes, mood swings, and vaginal changes are a lot less funny when you are the one looking for a snow drift to dive into at three in the morning to cool off your inner volcano. (When I asked for a smoking hot body, menopause was not what I had in mind.)

A well-known sign of aging, my eyesight is getting worse. I went from 20/20 vision to trifocals in one optometrist appointment. Now even my trifocals need bifocals. I’m not wearing the giant yellow plastics shades yet, but I’m not making fun of the ads for them anymore either. (I meant to download a calendar app for my phone, by my eyesight is so bad I downloaded a colander app… now my battery just keeps draining.)

Of course, there are some things no one joked about, or told me about, or even hinted at during family reunions. Nobody told me that my digestive system would go from being an ‘iron constitution’ to a complicated tissue-paper plumbing assembly. I now have to be concerned with my fiber intake (or lack thereof) because the consequences are anything from uncomfortable to ass-ripping pain. Now I understand why prunes are equated with old age! Supposedly they are a wonderful source of fiber. I’ll never know however, because I can’t choke them down. (What’s the definition of a surprise? A fart with a lump in it.) Also, I can no longer enjoy caffeine without paying dearly in stomach acid and sleeplessness. I have to make sure I eat dinner early enough that I can go to bed at night and not have to worry about acid reflux. That time frame used to be an hour, maybe two. Now, I’m one of the 5 PM supper crowd.

Here’s one I didn’t know. I knew my hearing would suffer from all those years of grunge metal music just as surely as my father’s hearing was destroyed by years of working around farming machinery. But I never knew the ringing in my ears would become so distracting. It’s like a never-ending metallic high F-sharp constantly humming in my ears. You know that feedback sound when a microphone is set too close to the speaker? That’s what I hear all day, every day. When the ENT was explaining to me that this is part of aging with a wry smile on his face, I kind of wanted to throat punch him. I knew hearing loss was part of aging (asshole!). I just had no idea hearing loss would be so damned loud.

I’ve started to notice that I don’t look like the people in the advertisements seen at my local stores, anymore. The pictures in the produce aisle advertising the wholesomeness of their fruits and vegetables are typically of fresh-looking women in their late twenties or early thirties, often with adorable young children and handsome husbands. Don’t get me wrong. My husband is handsome. But he’s not in his 30s anymore either. The cosmetics department is filled with racks of beauty products promising to make me look much young, thinner and prettier. Gray-haired models in clothing ads usually look like the only thing that has aged is their hair. Their faces are wrinkle-free and their bodies aren’t the lumpy, softening physique common in old age.

That’s not to say people my age don’t have ads made exclusively for them. There are all kinds of targeted advertisements for my demographic: walk-in showers, home medical equipment, hearing aids, Lasik surgery and over the counter arthritis remedies. People my age are no longer parents, or first-time home-owners, or new car buyers. Now we are grandparents, retirees, senior citizens. Instead of “Ladies night” deals at the local dance club, I get offers for discounts at every buffet-style restaurant ever opened. Ads for life insurance, funeral plans and Medicare plans are popping up on almost every webpage I open. Oh! And let’s not forget the many, many offers for cheap cat litter or cat food. Apparently “crazy cat lady” isn’t just a euphemism for spinsterhood anymore.

There’s a lot of challenges that come with growing old. But there’s also some humor, too. For example, did you hear the one about the 83-year-old woman who talked her way out of a speeding ticket by telling the nice officer she had to get there before she forgot where she was going? Or there’s the old guy talking to his neighbor, bragging about his new hearing aid, “It cost a fortune but it was well worth it.” His neighbor asked, “Really? What kind is it?” The old man answered, “Ten-thirty”. Finally, one important thing to know about aging: You won’t have to worry about avoiding temptation when you get old because it will pretty much avoid you.