Don’t Forget To Turn Back Your Biological Clock This Weekend



I attempted to shake the vodka cloud from my head as I headed towards the bathroom. In an effort to remove the morning mental mist that settles in after on of those nights I rubbed my face and peeked into the mirror. There staring back at me was my Dad. OMFG, who is that? Who am I? The old dude I used to make fun of for having a soft bulging Buddha belly and a head of hair who’s only wave is the one that says good bye looking back at me. I have morphed into my father, and the worst part is its not the young dashing man in my parents wedding photo but the outdated bargain bin model. The grumpy old manchild in the promised land whose pants never seemed to fit right Not the leisure suit wearing try to be hip with the “in crowd” Dad with a comb over in a successful attempt to embarrass me, but the wrinkled and bloated bald dude whose only conversations involve his particular ailment of the day Dad. That’s the one looking back at me. Crows feet around my darkened eyes, wrinkles where my cheekbones used to reside, a fading grey beard, and a forehead that is over two inches higher than I thought it was. I have the face of an old man. I looked at my hands, my stomach. Old. When did this happen? How did time ravage my body so cruelly rearranging everything making everything so wrinkled, so fragile? Why does my skin not seem to fit tight anymore? Everything has gotten soft yet life continues to be hard. I’ve aged ungracefully and feel as though I have been one upped by time. And time snuck up on me like the devious practical joker it is, took away my High Times magazine replacing it with an AARP magazine. And membership card!

What do I know about this time thing, this tricky conniving concept that creeps and slithers around unnoticed until it chooses to rear its timeworn ugly head? This cruel dark spirit that sneaks into you room while you sleep and tugs out your hair, squeezes your bladder, and gives you random smacks so you wake up wondering exactly which part hurts this morning and why. Is time on my side? No it isn’t Mick! Time may allow you moves like Jaeger when you’re young but when you use up too much time you’ll pay for it with osteoporosis, poor eyesight, and a compromised digestive system. Fuck time!

Time and time again I was put in time out. This time, next time, anytime, Time in time out, time zone, time time time. Parsley sage rosemary and time. Sorry, couldn’t resist. Anyway, its that time of the year to change the time of day. Another tricky time maneuver. I have heard it said it was Bennie Franklins idea but I blame time, in another surreptitious plot to mess with our biological clocks, which for some fucked up reasoned I the one clock we can’t set back. Sneaky because that was my fall back on plan, to reset my biological clock back to maybe my thirties or something, but time won’t let me. My fall back is to not spring forward to quickly but that ship has sailed and this body can no longer spring without consequence. Damn you time, you won again, you’re the slinky descending my steps in intense determination unwilling to stop for anything. So time will just seep marching on and moving forward so the only thing left for me to do is look back in the mirror again, look lovingly at my reflection and say, “Love you and miss you Dad, wish we had more time.” Don’t waste it, make the best of your time, spend it with the ones you love. it’s the best investment you’ll ever make

BTW, don’t forget to change your clocks, spring ahead, fall behind…….PEACE

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