Dear Well Over Fifty Female:
It has come to my attention that you are looking for a forty-something male who is truthful, handsome in a George Clooney way, compassionate to the point of tears, financially secure as a hedge fund manager with no less than three hundred million in assets, between six feet and six foot four in length, and who likes to go on quarterly trips to Europe, Australia, South America and Africa -- safaris only. You also value a man where family comes first, then friends, followed by pets, church going, and lastly, that man himself. Also your guy is not only athletic but he must have done the Iron-man Triathlon in Hawaii and swam the English Channel. Your man must also spend all his extra time on your needs including sorting out late deliveries from Bed Bath and Beyond, Saks, and Bloomingdale's. Most of all, you need a man to help raise the last kid to leave your house -- an enabled thirty year old child who has yet to finish Junior College. Sex is optional for you..
I believe I fit all your criteria.
Monday, March 25, 2013
Friday, March 22, 2013
P90X: Buffed and Then Rebuffed
I did the whole P90X workout program, and after ninety days, I finally have an eighteen year old body which covers fifty-eight years of joints, bones, ligaments, and a broken heart too -- I'm still not over my ex girl friend. But with P90X, I don't have to worry about hurt feelings when I can flex my muscles in front of mirrors at my health club. "Bring It!"
The P90X program is all about "muscle confusion" -- a concept I never fully grasped because I thought my mind was the only thing befuddled in my body. But muscles too? (Now that is material for a Stephen King novel.) The P90X concept is quite simple. If you do the same exercise over and over again, your muscles will get too comfortable and even bored. As a consequence your body will never get to the next level. "You plateau that way," says Tony Horton, the P90X guru.
But if, for example, you do one exercise followed quickly by an entirely different one, that would cause your muscles to say, "What's going on here? Now why do you want us to do that? We're confused." The net result is that your muscles will develop quickly and more efficiently.
Yesterday at my health club, I had in fact just finished doing a set of push ups and I was ready for pull ups but a young guy (probably eighteen years old too) was already at the bar. He was doing multiple sets which meant that he would be hanging around there for awhile.
"Mind if I jump in for a quick set" -- a bit fearful that he would say "No." But the kid said "sure" and watched me as I churned out ten pull ups. He then said, "Hey that's pretty impressive. Nobody at my school can do what you just did." I thanked him but acted like it was no big deal. I went over again to the mirror and stared at my muscles growing right before my eyes. Simply amazing.
After a second round of different exercises, I was scheduled again to do pull ups. This time, two teenage girls were alternating sets at the bar. "Mind if I jump in," I asked -- this time with much more confidence. One girl responded, "Yes we do!" And the other girl chimed in, "Aren't you a bit old to be doing this, anyway?" I quickly left them.
Wow, that really hurt! Why are teenage girls so cruel?
The P90X program is all about "muscle confusion" -- a concept I never fully grasped because I thought my mind was the only thing befuddled in my body. But muscles too? (Now that is material for a Stephen King novel.) The P90X concept is quite simple. If you do the same exercise over and over again, your muscles will get too comfortable and even bored. As a consequence your body will never get to the next level. "You plateau that way," says Tony Horton, the P90X guru.
But if, for example, you do one exercise followed quickly by an entirely different one, that would cause your muscles to say, "What's going on here? Now why do you want us to do that? We're confused." The net result is that your muscles will develop quickly and more efficiently.
Yesterday at my health club, I had in fact just finished doing a set of push ups and I was ready for pull ups but a young guy (probably eighteen years old too) was already at the bar. He was doing multiple sets which meant that he would be hanging around there for awhile.
"Mind if I jump in for a quick set" -- a bit fearful that he would say "No." But the kid said "sure" and watched me as I churned out ten pull ups. He then said, "Hey that's pretty impressive. Nobody at my school can do what you just did." I thanked him but acted like it was no big deal. I went over again to the mirror and stared at my muscles growing right before my eyes. Simply amazing.
After a second round of different exercises, I was scheduled again to do pull ups. This time, two teenage girls were alternating sets at the bar. "Mind if I jump in," I asked -- this time with much more confidence. One girl responded, "Yes we do!" And the other girl chimed in, "Aren't you a bit old to be doing this, anyway?" I quickly left them.
Wow, that really hurt! Why are teenage girls so cruel?
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Boomer Break-Up
My girl friend broke up with me because I'm unemployed. She left me for a man that has not one but two pensions -- one as a retired police officer and the second for being a shop teacher. All this information was conveyed to me while we were lying together in bed. Talk about feeling inadequate! I guess the pension today is the new gold standard.
The problem is I'm so sad -- even "despondent" -- don't you love that word? My friends, however, don't really care what I'm feeling. But I know what they are thinking ... that at age fifty-eight I should be more concerned about my colon than my heart.
But I am heartbroken. Still, when my friends look at me, they don't see a vibrant man. They see someone who is no longer viable. Someone who should be rejected -- even by Viagra. To them, I'm just a "Dead Man Walking." Hunched over and not even erect.
The men at my health club -- at least the guys my age -- are talking about their prostate and pensions. But I don't have one so I changed the subject and told them that I lost my love and my soul mate.
Only one guy sympathized with me: "Let me guess -- to cancer?"
The problem is I'm so sad -- even "despondent" -- don't you love that word? My friends, however, don't really care what I'm feeling. But I know what they are thinking ... that at age fifty-eight I should be more concerned about my colon than my heart.
But I am heartbroken. Still, when my friends look at me, they don't see a vibrant man. They see someone who is no longer viable. Someone who should be rejected -- even by Viagra. To them, I'm just a "Dead Man Walking." Hunched over and not even erect.
The men at my health club -- at least the guys my age -- are talking about their prostate and pensions. But I don't have one so I changed the subject and told them that I lost my love and my soul mate.
Only one guy sympathized with me: "Let me guess -- to cancer?"
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