Gleibonics by Ben Gleib

Hangovers last longer. That's just the beginning. Just the first sign that age is having its way with you. I think time is one enemy that everyone underestimates. Maybe because it's invisible. Maybe because until now it has disguised itself as a friend, promising puberty, and maturity, and girls, and better coordination, and money, and status, and a better sense of yourself, and a more established place in the world, and even smoother skin, time gains ours trust. Who wouldn't trust time with promises like this?

Then, on a dime, it turns on you and smacks you with credit card debt, twenty pounds of fat and a bad knee. A bad knee! What am I, eighty? May as well be. Sometimes I feel eighty. And damn it my head hurts from all that drinking last night. And, what's worse, thinking back to last night, which in itself can be a strain, I realize that last night's drinking was just two beers and a jack and coke. In college that would have just been an appetizer. Now each time until the hangover dissipates, it makes you consider giving up your vices. Then you feel fine, and come to your senses, and realize that you can't give up abusing your senses. Not yet.

But of course therein lies the rub. Because in some way, your mid-twenties make you feel older than you will likely feel for decades to come. This is because you are dealing with the effects of aging, but have not yet accepted an older lifestyle. You're trying to drag race in your SUV with poor gas mileage and classy leather interior, while drinking a chai latte, and you end up with an empty tank, spilled chai on your leather, and a speeding ticket. Which will raise your insurance, make you work harder to make money, and give you less time to drink or play basketball, which is fine, since your get more hung over than you used to, and suddenly you have a bad knee. It is an incongruous dichotomy that wreaks havoc on your system, and makes your feel slightly bad for all those times you told your dad, "Come on Pops, move faster, drive faster, choose faster." Suddenly, you are more aware of your own mortality, and value self-preservation like never before. And moving a little slower, driving a little slower, and taking your time with your decisions, no matter how small, just seem like good moves to avoid costly missteps, and slide gracefully into older age.

Does this make getting older something you want to avoid at all costs? Well it doesn't matter because as far as I can tell, unless you want to endure the pain and price of multiple costly surgeries leaving you like feeling like it's Halloween year round and you're stuck in an ill-fitting clown mask, avoiding aging is impossible. So if we are forced to this fact, let me spend a moment in the mind space of what is good about getting olderŠOkay the only thing I can come up with is you get more questions right on Jeopardy! (That exclamation point is because that's how Jeopardy! spells its name, not because I was excited about that fact. You know your game is boring when you have to force an exclamation point on people.)

I suppose the fact that you can't control aging is the only thought that can bring you solace. And with solace comes the ability to enjoy the inevitable. Which is necessary to not become a bitter old man. And after all, aging is just plain inevitable. And this unavoidable fact is as freeing as it is powerless. Because once a major decision is made for you, you are then free to make the best of it. And you begin a lifelong challenge to build your existence, refine your personality, and basically try not to fuck things up.

Maybe it is going over to the dark side, and embracing your enemy, but it's the only way to work toward that elusive maturity, and girls, and better coordination, money, status, sense of yourself, place in the world, and smoother skin that it has promised us. Puberty is the only one we've got down. Age gives that one away early, as an enticing, ever-lasting taste of what the years have to offer. Puberty is how they hook you. "This tingling sensation feels nice, maybe wrinkles won't feel so bad."

But with age the texture of life does become much more rich. You appreciate details more. And it has been duly noted that there is infinite beauty in the details. Of course we don't mention that this is because we are too old to enjoy the broad, careless activities of our youth. But it's the truth. When drunken binges in Mexico seem a little tough to stomach, it follows suit that you'd have develop a new appreciation for the features of your easy chair. Oh the beautiful details.

As long as you don't give up the things of youth too early. I have confronted each one with the blind fury of a furious blind man, running at a metaphorical concrete wall with full force. And each time I pick myself up, in awe that I was actually knocked down by a metaphorical wall. And I fumble around for my standard issue blind man sunglasses, promising myself I won't run at that particular wall again. But of course I am blind, so the event may repeat itself, unbeknownst to me. You don't have to take this same approach. In fact wisdom would dictate that when you embrace the aging process, you are less likely to run up against it. But when you fight wisdom as an unwelcome byproduct of your advancing age, you are less likely to benefit from its warnings. And more likely to run into it's walls. But you also retain the much-needed spirit of youth, which helps keep your attitude optimistic. This is a difficult balance to strike, and I leave the beauty of those details to you.

I have to go sober up. Gotta be sharp for Jeopardy! And that exclamation point was not intentional.