Something strange yet not entirely unpredictable is happening to my husband and his friends:
My guy is older than me, yet 99% of the time he doesn't act like it... but it's becoming clear that in spite of this, his DNA is well apprised that he's firmly entrenched in his middle age.
So what are all these middle aged guys starting to do?
Buy motorcycles, that's what. And not only are they buying the dang things, but they're planning extensive, cross country trips, buying waterproof chaps and hideous, space age boots they can barely walk in that are supposed to make a long, uncomfortable journey less so (how? Je ne sais pas!)
It's almost as if their genetic makeup is saying, "look guys, most of you weren't supposed to make it thru the 70's, being seriously testosterone soaked meatballs and such... quite a few of you narrowly dodged the AIDS crisis of the 80's, and really, since you have far exceeded my expectations for life span, it's long overdue that you start to think about how to eliminate yourself from the gene pool".
And truly, what's the best and most efficient means of accomplishing that?
Buy a motorcycle.
Well, having worked with a few realllly miserable old people this past week at the hospital, a quick and dramatic ending might be the wise choice, after all... let's just hope that fate is kind to these foolish, aging men and they don't live out the remainder of their days on a spinal cord injury unit.
But good god! Leather chaps on a paunchy, balding dude? If fate is kind to *me*, let the vision be removed from my mind, such that I won't be tormented with it for evermore.