Saturday, February 9, 2013

How old are you really?

How old are you really?
Old enough.
No really...I know you are closer to sixty than fifty.
Jack breathed heavily.
I'm fifty three.
He followed Jim into the living room.
I thought you were a lot older than that....I mean you look sixty.
Jack stared at Jim and thought he was kidding but he couldn't be sure. He in fact had always looked younger than his age. A lot younger. And Jim had started looking like an old man. His back was hunched and windburned cracks had appeared in his cheeks. More than all that he had begun to act old. Several times they had gone to Chicago and Jim had murmured, 'look at all these kids.'
 But they had come for Jim's fiftieth birthday and to support  Cindy who just had a double mastectomy.
So hows it been going?
 Jim' shrugged.
She's driving me crazy. I set up a room for her and everything and all she does is bitch.
Jack nodded and took the beer. He stared at the room Jim set up.  A lazy boy and a television mounted to the ceiling.
She wanted me to bring the TV down and I said no.
But how is Cindy...I mean, is she recovering?
Oh yeah...we are putting all that behind us.
 Jack nodded still smarting from the age comment. Lately he had begun to think about age. People getting cancer. People dying. And now he was fifty three. Jim turned again from the ceiling mounted TV.
You sure you are only fifty three?
In the car Jack listened to is wife talk about Cindy. Cindy was always neurotic. The rap was she drove Jim crazy with her Iphone texts. Jim was the beleaguered husband. Cindy was the nut. Jack listened and then they drove in silence
Jim said he thought I looked like I was sixty.
His wife looked at him.
That's ridiculous.
Jack nodded.
I think he's a real asshole.
Jacks wife nodded and didn't speak, then patted his arm.
 He's just old.
Rocket Man...the American Dream Upside Down

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