Man of a Certain Age

The older I get, the more I have learned that more and more people are likely to look at me in a certain way. Let’s call it “mature.” In all honesty, that is not always a bad thing. Mature can be good. Mature attracts a certain type.

But different people have different view of “mature” that are not necessarily accurate. For example, I recently received a Facebook invitation to attend the “Bearracuda” event happening in Austin in September. 

It has absolutely nothing to do with fish!

It is all about men of a certain body shape and degree of hairiness. Yes, I recently posted a picture of the hair I trimmed from my legs, but that’s it! No excess hair on my stomach, chest, or back can be found. And I just lost over twenty pounds, so I do not have the body shape either.

I can only think of one reason I was invited - I am a man of a certain age, so surely, I’m a bear. I’m not even an otter. As far as that world is concerned, I might as well be one of those freaky Sphynx cats.

Ninety percent of the time I like being a man of a certain age because I do not look or feel like it; however that ten percent creeps in now and then and reminds me that I am.