Friday, August 27, 2010

Better With Age

And again this friend of mine was bragging about how she thought she was getting better with age and since I am nearing her same age, I thought to myself that I too could utter that phrase with conficence as long as I looked at myself from a certain perspective.

I’m actually getting better with age
To illustrate this, here is my gauge
The spots on my skin – think of a young leopard
The cane in my hand – think of a young Sheppard
And now that I squint – think of a young Clint (Eastwood)
The grey in my hair – now I look debonair
Though my jowls droop a little I feel fit as a fiddle
And though I wear glasses, the gals still make passes
My six-pack’s matured to a tight mini-keg
And I could run miles (except for one leg)
There’s a skip in my steps like I’m dancing on air
(It’s just orthopedics – I now wear a pair)
And the creaks and the groans that you hear when I move
Is the gypsy in me getting down with the groove
When I look in the mirror I still see someone young
And my memory sticks on the tip of my tongue
Yes, I’m actually getting better with age
If I recalibrate what I use for a gauge

Mdailey 8/27/10

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