Part 2: Peter Pan did it and Shane Warne’s still doing it. “What did they do?” I hear you ask. Well in their own way they seem to have cracked the secret of eternal youth……..let’s consider them individually.
Peter Pan may have been a figment of J. M. Barrie’s imagination but he’s living the dream and not ageing at all. Of course nothing is perfect in this world and being a pre pubescent 12 year old boy forever isn’t every guys idea of paradise. Now had Mr Barrie alternatively narrated the tale of a trendy 30 year old persistently pestering and wantonly wooing Wendy it would be a different story. Don’t mind if I stick on 30 thank you very much. Also remember the price that Peter had to pay for his eternal youth package was Captain Hook was chasing him 24 hours a day trying to stick that deadly curved prosthesis up his arse! Thank goodness for the ticking crocodile that always appeared in the nick of time to save the day……and Peters bottom. My point is that you don’t get anything for free in this world.
Warney has cracked it as far as any male can in these modern times. He’s cashed up so is able to use any medical treatment available to enhance his devilish good looks. I believe he was too impatient to chemically feed the follicles to encourage stem cell hair growth. Instead he chose the express route ….a la Elton John, electing for the transplant which looks pretty cool and seems to be as healthy, attractive and golden as my dear old mums Yorkshire puddings. Funny thing about those male follicles, why is it that as we age the cranium ones wither and die like Trumps love for Obamacare? At the same time we develop new ones in ears, nose, back and bum from which hair growth proliferates like Superman on speed. It’s a funny old world. Similarly Warney’s utilisation of Botox, fillers or whatever which gives him a complexion that’s fresher than my grandsons bottom. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not bitching about him. If I could have bowled a legbreak or flipper like that whilst making a squillion bucks in the process, I would have likewise been chasing Liz Hurley and between bonks visiting Harley Street (the traditional home of the Top Gun of Pommie Physicians) for my face lifts, tummy tucks, teeth treatment, hair replacement (or removal) etc. Whatever services were available to delay what is in the end inevitable.
My own personal hurdle was turning 60…..let’s not pull any punches here it’s pretty old. Five years from the pension and according to the Aussie Beauraux of Statistics 20.4 years from the grave! For me the year preceding the significant date was one of foreboding, gloom and trepidation……bugger, I should have gone to councilling. The blow was softened and things put into perspective when I read on Facebook a post by someone of similar vintage who sensibly reflected that we should be grateful that we still wake each morning, unlike some of our siblings and dear friends who have been taken before their time. Yep, I really deserved that physiological kick in the goolies.
Just to clarify where I’m coming from, we are the post war baby boomers and things seem to have changed exponentially during our lifetime. Admittedly there has always been change but we were possibly the pathfinders in the progressive ability to actually do what previous generations could only have dreamed of. We are the generation who went to the kibbutz in Israel picking Jaffa oranges and sharing international love. Let’s not forget hitchhiking to Goa wearing our Afghan coats and patched Levies to smoke weed and solve the problems of the universe on Anjuna beach in the Brahmin community……..peace, love and all that stuff!
Ahhhh, reflections…….I wasn’t there but remember Woodstock and Hendrix, the Isle of White Festival and Joe Cocker, Timothy Leary advocating exploration of the therapeutic potential of psychedelic drugs…….and along came LSD! I was in San Fransisco in the 70’s at the birth of gay liberation. Walking through that wonderful city I was the odd one out because I wasn’t hand in hand with some handsome, moustachioed, long haired dude.
The examples just keep coming. Heck we were there in the 60’s when hot pants, the pill and the breathalyser came along. Before the breathalyser we thought it was illegal not to drive home from the pub pissed!
I’ll conclude with an anecdote relating to this topic. I don’t claim it as one of mine and don’t particularly agree with it……so here we go; “Age is only a number.” Ok so I realise that the alternative to growing old is carking it but that’s hardly an argument which makes it any more attractive. It isn’t my intention to appear insensitive or provocative but try saying that “age is just a number” to the dear old souls in palliative care in the nursing homes…..sometimes known as Gods Waiting Rooms.
My final thought on this topic is to live for today, try not to hurt yourself or anyone else. If there are any bad habits/pleasures that I’m missing out on tell me about it…….everything in moderation is what I say.
…….and I still think that getting old sucks!
1 Comment
Nicky Coker
7 years agoYes, getting old sucks but on the up side, the alternative is worse. As Abraham Lincoln once said "In the end, its not the years in your life that count, its the life in your years." Great article, look forward to the next instalment and I can recommend a good Beautician that can wax those nasty little hairs. :)
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