Tag: aging

Who knew writing could actually give you a hernia?

image Welcome to Ned’s Nickel’s Worth on Writing! It’s that time each week when I offer writing wisdom gained from 15 years as a columnist who, until recently, has remained completely hernia-free! It’s a feature the American Journal of Medicine is calling, “Writing advice that gets results as quickly as bending over and coughing…” or what Dr. Oz has touted as “The only place I haven’t stuck my face yet. And by that I mean his blog, not pelvic area…”

But enough accolades!

As I’ve mentioned before, writing can be a dangerous business, particularly for columnists who find themselves coughing uncontrollably from a seated position. As much as I’d like to say I got my femoral hernia after a tap-out while dragging firehose into a burning structure, or because I’m an amazing lover, the truth is it happened while I was sitting exactly where I am — during a bad coughing fit. I’ve been nursing this cough for about a month, which began with a high fever at the end of my vacation in August. Naturally, I assumed it was just my body’s way of preparing to return to work.

Besides, as my wife knows, “I never get sick!”

These words are already being chiseled into my tombstone. Continue reading Who knew writing could actually give you a hernia?

I’m 48 today AND it’s my 30th class reunion; way to rub it in, God

The kind of excitement my birthday is generating.
The kind of excitement my birthday is generating.
This morning, after unpinning my legs from under our Labrador, I pulled back the covers and rolled out of bed, bringing my feet to the floor for the first time as a 48-year-old.

So far, so good, I thought, then stretched, twisted and stood before sliding into my pants. I’ve always told myself, when I have to start sitting down to put my pants on, THAT’S when I’ll know I’m getting old. But this morning I realized that wasn’t entirely true: It’ll start long before that, when I can no longer get out from under the dog.

Naturally, the first thing my son asked me this morning is if I felt a year older. I told him I didn’t, but that I was starting to forget little things, like including his name in my will. And I might’ve accidentally worn his underwear while jogging yesterday. Plus, I may have posted a Justin Bieber link to his Facebook instead of his sister’s. But other than those minor memory glitches, I hadn’t noticed any real difference in becoming a year older. Continue reading I’m 48 today AND it’s my 30th class reunion; way to rub it in, God

Age can be relative with the help of an all-beef patty

image As I think I’ve mentioned, I’m turning 48 this year. The good news is I have a friend who just turned 60. So, relative to him I am a young man — something I will keep reminding him of until that sad day when, unexpectedly, he knocks out my front teeth with his walker. My point is, when it comes to age, what seems relative can quickly change.

Yesterday, for example, I was eating at a fast-food place when I noticed a pair of college-aged girls taking glances at me from another table. This has happened before, which is why I instinctively went through a series of mental checkpoints drawn from previous experience:

1) Is there condiment blowback in my hair, on my chin or around my nostril(s)?
2) What am I wearing today, and is there any part I forgot to snap closed, zip up or buckle down?
3) Did I unknowingly allow any part of my body’s internal gastro intestinal process to be heard externally?
4) Am I slouching, hunched or otherwise postured in a manner that makes it appear I’m protecting my $3.99 Value Meal, possibly to the death?

And last,

5) Is there someone much younger and better-looking sitting directly behind me? Continue reading Age can be relative with the help of an all-beef patty

Study reveals male-pattern baldness doesn’t include ears

(Welcome to this week’s edition of Flashback Sunday, which is when we travel back in time to when my only followers were agents from Homeland Security, thanks to my calling Alabama fireworks “the backbone to our nation’s first strike capabilities.” This week’s flashback is an important reminder to all men that a well-laid comb over will go completely unnoticed if it must compete with ear hair that resembles a family of chinchillas…)

If you are a male over 40, chances are your ear hair has grown 2 centimeters since you read this.
If you are a male over 40, chances are your ear hair has grown 2 centimeters since you read this.
What I’m about to tell you may be considered vain. On the other hand, it could also be considered a responsible act of brushfire prevention. I’m talking, of course, about excessive ear and nose hair. I bring this up because of a recent conversation I had with someone who wanted to express his opinion on…

Something.

To be honest, I can’t remember what it was because I couldn’t overlook the fact that he appeared to have a chinchilla stuck in each ear.

I tried to be a good listener.

Tried to look reflective.

At least until I realized saliva had pooled in my open mouth.

As you might expect, this person was a male over the age of 40, which seems to be about the time follicles in men’s ears and noses begin producing hair at an alarming rate. I say alarming because I’ve heard of men purposely growing enough ear and nose hair to make a comb over. Continue reading Study reveals male-pattern baldness doesn’t include ears

It’s my 47th birthday and the excitement is tangible

As you can see, these kids who crashed my birthday party can barely contain their enthusiasm.
As you can see, these kids who crashed my birthday party can barely contain their enthusiasm.
This week’s edition of Ned’s Nickel’s Worth on Writing is brought to you by a 47-year-old man! [Please note the exclamation point! (Hey, there’s another one!)] Why am I excited about this? And why am I not calling in sick while lining up shot glasses on the kitchen table?!? Because, in addition to my birthday falling on an NWOW Friday, I feel GREAT!

I’m in my PRIME!

And I want the whole world to know how, through positive thinking and the repetitious use of exclamation points, you can believe it too!!

To celebrate, I dressed in my favorite AC/DC T-shirt, jeans and smokey grey Vans. Oh, and Dos Equis underwear. Um, to clarify, those are underneath my jeans, not on top (I haven’t had that much to drink). I also took a moment to record the occasion for posterity by taking a photo. Which isn’t to say I took a picture of my butt. But I did stand next to the only other thing in our newsroom older than me (until my editor gets here), which is The Door (of Shame, Blame and Brilliance). Continue reading It’s my 47th birthday and the excitement is tangible

It’s Sunday, and I’m thinking about having flashbacks

We all have skeletons, right? Here's a promotional ad from The Post in Centre, Ala., in 2003.
We all have skeletons, right? Here’s a promotional ad from The Post in Centre, Ala., in 2003.
OK, so I’ve found myself in the office on a Sunday. For a priest, that’s pretty normal; for me, it’s a sign of the apocolypse. However, with my family away until late tonight, I figured it would be a good opportunity to work ahead and emerge into Monday morning knowing I — ha-HA! — have the upper hand.

And after talking with a good blogger friend at Polysyllabic Profundities, I came to my senses and realized:

Hey! It’s SUNDAY!

Good intentions should be good enough.

Not to say I don’t plan on getting anything accomplished. For example, I’ve made a pot of coffee.

I also came up with an idea I’d like to run by the rest of you. I’m calling it “Sunday Flashbacks,” and it would essentially be a regular Sunday posting of some of my earliest columns and blog entries, back when the only “likes” I had came from other people with the last name Hickson. Continue reading It’s Sunday, and I’m thinking about having flashbacks