So.... The other day, when I was wrestling around with one of my little ones, they stopped, looked at me, and asked (what I use think was a dreaded question), "Daddy, are you old?"
I immediately asked myself, "What brought that on? Did I let out a whimper just now, when they jumped off the couch (knees first) onto my back? Is there a gray hair on my head I can't see?" So I've been asking myself, "Am I old?" The answer: I'm as old as I feel. Which means, some days I feel younger than usual.
So I ask you guys. Complete the following sentence:
You know you're getting old, when....
You know you're getting old, when you see a hottie at the mall and ask yourself, "Hmm... I wonder what her mom looks like?"
When you have to get up in the night twice to go pee, then lay awake for an hour or more, then go to work and fall asleep at your desk in the middle of working on a project. Naw, it never happened . . .
When you have to get up in the night twice to go pee, then lay awake for an hour or more, then go to work and fall asleep at your desk in the middle of working on a project. Naw, it never happened . . .
At least you won't remember you did all of the above... just that you have to pee again and your knees and back crack as you get up! Nah, that never happened... what was I saying? Who is this?
Yo! Glad to see that I'm not the only one feelin' as old as dirt this morning:
I checked my "retirement account" online before I checked the swell and wind forecasts. When I finally got around to checking the forecasts and buoy reports, I was glad to see that the surf is still small enough for a brittle old man to go play around in. I am almost recovered from my 2-hour session in "user-friendly" 2' waves on Monday. At least I didn't injure myself.
I used to ride my bike down to the beach to check the surf first thing, hoping to see stacked sets of adrenaline-pumping, grinding, double-overhead barrels, but now I hope for clean sets of waist-to-head high peelers, with enough time between the sets to rest and catch my breath, and an easy paddle out.
I'll now surf in tiny 1' - 2' slop that I never would have given a second thought about, because "I can use the workout."
I sometimes find myself surfing in the same lineup with the boyfriend of one of my ex-girlfriend's granddaughters. He gradded from high school last spring. I think I have even surfed with a great-grandkid of one of my friends, but I can't remember which one.
The hard core ideal of "surfing until you die," or "surfing 'til you can no longer get someone to wheel you down to the water's edge," is starting to lose its appeal.
I am still babying my right arm after I tweaked a tendon casting my 6 wt all day on the river back in June. No more "all day casting" for this kid!
And yes, I need to get yet another eye exam and some new bifocals.
At least I'm a happy Old Man. I don't need glasses to thread a fly or hit that little hole in the eye. My problem comes from trying to tie the knot. I shake so bad, it's comical to watch myself do it. I almost end up crying because of it. But I stick with it until I get it done.
Or when you add tippet to your leader and you discover the you tied both ends of the tippet together.
1. Getting old; When the girls are old enough to full around but too young for you.
2. Old; When their mothers are.
3. Grumpy old man; When your to old to full around.
When taking a piss would put out a forest fire or be considered a river tributary.
Now it is like the weather forecast calling for "light sprinkles or intermittent showers".
When taking a piss would put out a forest fire or be considered a river tributary.
Now it is like the weather forecast calling for "light sprinkles or intermittent showers".
You all sound like you are old. You are only as old as you feel. Me on the other hand, I am old. I get out and fish once or twice a week. I stay out about 4 hours. I catch a few fish and I'm happy. I don't wear myself out casting as I know where the fish are. Usually right in front of me.
I stopped along side of my creek the other day. I got out of my truck and walked over to the bank, about 3 step away. I stuck my arm out over the water and three fish swam away. Another time on the same creek I walked over to a grassy spot to the bank and 5 fish swam away. Some small and some not so small. The vibrations from walking set them off. These are some wary fish. But with the right fly in the right place you will have fun catching. And I'm an old man.
When your nephew asks, "Uncle Bill, is a record a kind of Ipod?"!! Real story!
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