I Done Got Old

In the words of the great delta bluesman, Robert Balfour:

I done got old.
Can't do the things I used to do.
 
I turned 41 this past Sunday and it got me thinking.  I'm not one of those folks who dread birthdays.  I am really not bothered by age at all.  However, turning 41 has unexpectedly been lot different than turning 40.  I can say that I've starting to notice some things in my life that are harbingers of my oncoming geezerdom.
 
Toilet Paper Appreciation
 
This is something I have historically never really cared about.  When I first lived on my own, I always just bought the cheapest and wondered why folks wasted their money on a product that is so, needless to say, very disposable.
 
However, when my wife and I were at K-Mart yesterday picking up some house supplies, I decided to get the most expensive pack of Charmin toilet paper they had on the shelf.  I realized then for the first time that the older I get, the more money I'm willing to invest in toilet paper.
 
The Urge
 
In the mornings, I pour coffee in a travel mug to drink while driving to work.  I really don't have any type of addiction of coffee.  I can truly take it or leave it.  To be honest, I have never noticed any physical effect of drinking a cup of coffee.  I have just gotten in the habit of taking a cup with me on the drive to work for something to do.
 
I have noticed this past year that pouring the coffee from the pot into my travel mug give me a strong urge to urinate.
 
Even more startling was the realization a few minutes later in the bathroom that this urge occurs even when I don't have to actually urinate. 
 
I mean, how much longer before I skip the strange urge-to-pee stage and just start peeing my pants whenever I pour a cup of coffee?
 
Let the Good Times Roll .  . . away
 
I used to drink a lot more beer on the weekends.  I realized this morning that I haven't had a beer at all this weekend.  It's not like I'm trying to cut down or anything, not like it wouldn't be a good idea, but I honestly didn't think of it.
 
Hair in Strange Places?
 
We took our daughter to get her hair styled on Saturday and, since I was already there, I decided to get my hair cut as well.  Now I'm not losing my hair at all.  I don't even have a receding hairline.  It's not something I brag about since I don't really care but I must have good genes in that regard.
 
So the stylist, who I have never even met before, worked on my hair and at one point spent what seemed to me to be a longer than usual time with the clippers around my ears.  She said "Yep, you're getting older."  Older?  She had never cut my hair before so she couldn't be comparing me now to sometime in the past.  What prompted this? 
 
I'm still not 100% sure but it's probably not good.
 
They Don't Make Good Music Anymore
 
They sure don't.  Seems that any old skank willing to dress like a hooker and dance like a pole stripper can have a hit record.  Any bozo that looks like he just got up from bed after passing out drunk the night before and is still able to hold a guitar can perform on TV and sell records.  Who thinks not combing your hair is cool?  Why can't entertainers have last names anymore?  Come on, even the King had a last name even though "Elvis" was more than enough to identify him.
 
What happened to actual bands?  Seems that nowadays the spotlight is just on a single moron singing alone and the folks who actually wrote the songs, play the instruments, and make the music aren't even on stage.
 
What happened to the rockers from the 70's who, despite being drugged out of their minds, could still sing well and play guitar like nobody's business?  Man, those were the good old days!  Except for a few exceptions, they stopped making good music sometime in the 80's.
 
The End is Near
 
How much longer before I show up at Cracklebarrel at 3PM for dinner in my adult diaper in case I pee my pants when they refill my tea? 
 
Move over geezers.  I think I'm getting ready to squeeze my way in at the geezer table.