March of Times

Another shocking milestone in the broken road that is human aging. It struck suddenly, unexpected and penetrating deep, like a knife thrown with precision and straight to the heart: I turned to leave the restroom at the office and just happened, just happened, to catch myself in the mirror. I stopped as I reached for the door knob and froze. Reaching down to check, my worst nightmare was confirmed: I was about to leave the bathroom with my zipper undone. Oh, the indignities of age. This is not a trivial event. Trust me. I've had to sit and listen to old men telling me about their hips, their knees, their feet, all the while trying to decide if I should tell them their zipper is down. Just as often they're sitting beside their spouse of 48 years who probably figures, what the hell, he's always been a slob.

Now I've expressed my concerns on this subject previously. Never more clearly or with greater concern than the famous gas station incident this past September. This may be worse, however. Leaving your fly open calls to mind all those other things people see, like leaks, and spots, missed belt loops, and wrinkled shirts, half tucked and pocked with clumps of caked on breakfast cereal. Please, no, not yet.

The incident passed rather harmlessly. It didn't really haunt me for hours like driving off with the hose of the gas pump in the tank. I was going to be okay until I decided to be a nice guy and fill out the iPhone survey that showed up in my e-mail that evening. First question: Your age? The category I had to check: 45 - 54. The next one, the one looming on the horizon just 5 months away: 55 - 64! Talk about your milestones!!

There is no getting around it: Time marches on and aging still beats the alternative. But I'm thinking perhaps I should start a charity, The March of Times. We can get sons and daughters to start raising funds to support research directed at alleviating the pain of all the social trauma one's parents will suffer with aging. I don't care if I get old, just keep me happy 'til the end, zipped up or not. I'm going to need help.