Monday, September 8, 2008

My little gray whiskers


Last week I wrote about how every man who looks in the mirror sees a 16 year old kid and that I am one, among many, of these men. What and who gives me the license to think this way? There is no shortage of answers.

Give my family genes a little credit for starters. My darker skin doesn’t show my age like my lighter-skinned brothers and sisters. And a full head of hair definitely helps. It’s not as thick as it use to be, but it is all there.

Then let’s give some credit to my own exercise and nutrition efforts. Rigorous exercise puts color in my cheeks, an uprightness in my posture, makes visible what muscles I have, keeping my middle-age man belly size in check. I don’t have man boobs nor do I look like I’m pregnant. I’d never get hired as a Christmas-season Santa Claus.

And let’s not forget the value of a well-rounded education, a life well traveled and a positive outlook of life in general. The latter is my temperament, a gift from God for which I am most grateful. The gift of positive thinking and believing that people are good make it more likely that I’ll be in the company of good healthy people. That keeps me feeling young, and feeling young makes me look young.

Finally, credit must be given to family and friends who constantly remind me that that I don’t look my age, as if they are experts to make such statements. They say this almost tit-for-tat as in “I’ll tell you how good you look and that you don’t look your age if you’ll do the same for me”. The good old buddy system working at its best.

So it comes as no surprise and it doesn’t take long before I start believing I don’t look my age, walking around town full of myself. I am not alone. We all go prancing around as we go about our business, big head and all, constantly thinking about how good and young we look.

Despite this nonsense, there is a constant reminder keeping me in check that I am a middle-age man. I couldn’t do it on my own, and for this I am most grateful to my little gray whiskers.

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Who put a Tommy Kono shirt on Big Foot?

fishhead said...

Hey pierini,

I see the brown hair of my youth when I look in the mirror. Now that I'm 43, I'm totally gray. I refuse to color my hair. I feel that this is the way God made me. If more women didn't color their hair, the world would be a better palce-lol! I also see it as my legacy from my dad. He was gray in his 30's.
It is funny how society judges people with gray hair. Men are considered distinguished and wise, women are just seen as old. I have had several people comment that I would look so much younger if I would color my hair. Imagine the nerve! I just consider myself a platinum blonde :)

Have a great day,
Donna

Pierini Fitness said...

Hi Donna,

Thanks for stopping by.

Gray hair is cool. When I get a haircut, I tell the barber to not cut off my wisdom streaks.

My wife and I match, in the hair department that is.

Have a great day!