Lookin’ back on the track…
The vast majority of men HATE going to the Doctor and I am certainly no exception. For the most part, as long as the majority of our aging systems are functioning we will avoid any encounters with the Medical Profession.
Through no fault of my own, my presence on Earth is hidden deep within the mammoth ink blob on the Demographic Charts known as the Baby Boom. Simultaneously reviled and regaled as the greatest/worst thing to ever happen to Western Civilization. EVER!
I was born in ’57 which is smack dab in the latter days of the rabbit-like reproductive efforts (’46-’64 US & ’66 Canada) that was spawned by the completion of the Second World War and the ensuing optimistic myopia that the Future was ‘All Good” and the bounty of the Earth was inexhaustible.
For their efforts our Parents received unbelievable increases in the value of their homes (a small price to pay for enduring Rock N Roll, Feminism, Racial Equality, and Environmentalism) thanks to the demand created by 8M Boomers in Canada and 70M in the States.
If you are interested to see how long it will take to finally be rid of us, once and for all, you can check out this link to the Baby Boomer Death Counters
Anyway, since I am about to hit the big ‘FIVE O’ this year I must somehow convince my Identity Manager (who is maybe about 35/36 tops!) that my CPU needs a check up and cleaning.
I have noticed that my ‘Browser’ somehow deletes all of my temporary files. That is why I have no idea where my keys are or what I am supposed to remember about next Weekend.
OK so what if I can’t remember what is happening right now I can still whip out obscure bits of trivia on demand..well for others…if ‘I’ try to remember something FORGET IT but if my Sister phones me and asks me for an eight letter name for a Monotreme that ends in an S, lo and behold, out pops
P l a t y p u s.
I thought that my browser would clog up in my 70s or 80s, long after I had my Driving priviledges revoked, 3rd Quadruple Bypass Surgery (known as a Procedure), and my vanity driven ‘testicle tuck’ for all the Ladies at the Viagra Nursing Home.
C’mon now, in a couple of years the aging Baby Boomers will be rounded up and warehoused in giant Nostalgia Centres. There they can pharmacologically ‘Tune In and Turn On’ (relive the 60s and 70s) until they finally ‘Drop Out’!
Statistical forecasts predict that there will be about 2 Million Groovy Gals for every surviving Cool Cat and ‘ya ’gotta love’ them odds.
Which brings me to my final observation?
I think that it is safe to assume that aging men aren’t concerned with their “browser’ dumping files. Obviously doddering, old, farts can easily function with severely limited reasoning abilities.
Evidently they can manage a Corporation or even be President!
So stop wasting time on Neuroscience..pfft!
Men can ignore a myriad of physical and mental deficits for decades but if something goes askew with their Hydraulics they panic and show up at their Doctor’s Golf Course or even at their Home in the middle of the night.
So it’s not the ‘Browser’ it’s the ‘Schnauzer’.
“Lookin’ back on the track,
For a little BLUE pill.
just the kind,
For loosin’ my mind.”