# GROMEN 6    How to cope with being really old



## Divus (May 6, 2012)

There appears to be a few mature folks on this thread and one or two  of the  viewers show interest in what happens to men in the age of Great Granddads.       Maybe, as one who has passed through the threshold of three score years and ten,  I can throw a little light on the subject whilst I can still see,  hear and think.            

It is *not* mandatory at any age to catch Alzheimers, Parkinsons or Senile Dementia in any of its  less well known varieties.    Neither need a man lose his hearing.   But one does get a little crotchety.  This however is a mental state which can be used with aplomb.    Anything one hears of which one does not approve which has been uttered by a loving spouse can be evaded by turning a ‘deffun’.     Practice your pained expression in the mirror.    A look, a puckered chin, a wrinkled eyebrow followed by a “What did you say?”  is usually enough.      No, unless you feel so inclined,  you do not have to go shopping, or visit Auntie Mary nor one of your wife’s ex work colleagues, most of  whom you cannot abide.    

Shortage of breath might be  a possibility especially after climbing stairs so make sure you make a grab for the stair rail at the top.    However I find that merely asking for something in a plaintive voice is often enough for it to arrive, almost as if by magic, at one’s elbow.       If the bedroom is situated upstairs, then once down, there is no need to go up again until bed time beckons, so long as the house also is fitted downstairs with a  loo.

You need  never have to lift a heavy weight again.    There is a technique for lifting  suitcases, shopping bags, indeed heavy loads of various types  ie that  you merely stand there and look perplexed.    It is absolutely amazing how often some kind soul will come up and offer to help.   Never refuse the offer.    Your need for assistance is making them feel generous in that they did their good deed for the day by helping a poor old man.   Be sure to say: ‘thank you’ and hobble a bit as you walk away.

You will not have to defend your arm chair.  You know that special, soft, comfortable recliner which is sited immediately in front of the TV, by the small cupboard alongside the window, over looking the garden.   That will be your chair and any visitor to the house will be advised that no one else is allowed to sit in it.      It helps if the chair is a bit tatty - so scratch it, spill some coffee down the side of it, eat some cream cracker biscuits whilst sitting in it.       Give it a grubby patina.    If the worst comes to the worst and some infidel has the audacity to sit in it, then a ruse which rarely fails,  is to go get a walking stick, to stand by the chair and to wheeze.    Actually people who try to sit in a man’s  lounge chair or his dining room chair or his kitchen chair should no longer be  invited to the house.   Personally I have found that a Staffordshire Bull terrier or Rottweiler makes an excellent Guardian of the Chair.     They can be a very effective deterrent in the moulting season.

As with the chair, so with the toilet.    Since it is highly probable that a seventy one year old male will have a  prostate problem, guests, visitors, family members will avoid your loo - so long as you make sure they know of your condition.      You might have to create your own personal throne room but the plumbing is easy enough.      Choose the plumber carefully.     You will then be able to go as often as you like without fear of blockage.   Remember to fit a dog proof catch on the inside for if you have a terrier, it will make a point of following you wherever you go.     I have found it best to take the Tamulosin tablets at around 9.00 pm in the evening, then the  chronic period is in the morning and not during the night.

Watch out for the colonic complications - same lower end  but  at the back rather than the front.      It is a different specialism so a different set of rubber gloves are called for.    When under routine inspection you lay on your stomach instead of your back.   Remember to eat a laxative a day and make sure you get plenty of fibre in your diet.

Dizziness.  Well, that comes a bit with the Tami pills.        It could also be associated with the bifocals.       When the room spins,  just stand still, grab something stationary, ask yourself if you have  had a glass too many and wait - the sensation will pass.

Hearing.    Well that can be a  problem.   Personally I’ve got tinnitus, a condition presents as a permanent whistling sound in the ears.     You can mentally switch it off after a time and it is again a useful weapon when you don’t want to listen to  something you don’t want to hear.   One hand to your good ear, a slight lean forwards and a querulous “what?” is all it takes to take advantage of the condition.      I am sorry to say  the noise never goes away but you will eventually learn to sleep through it.

Eyes.    Well even if they were once 20:20, you won’t be for ever.  Specs will help  but again it is amazing what you need not see if you don’t look too hard.     If you do need to see something close up then there are always binoculars, telescopes and microscopes.   Personally I have been partially blind in my left eye for most of my life - so I look out though the right eye.     Table tennis is still possible  so something on the left side must be working.

Sex.  Hope that you have forgotten about it.   Even if you still can do it, no one is going to want to do it with you or rather no one you want to do it with will want to do it with you and if they do, then you want to ask yourself seriously why would they want to?

Stomach.  Well that’s up to you.  Don’t eat too much.  Don’t kid yourself that you can eat and stay slim.   So, don’t ever eat anything you don’t like.   The best filet steak  is fine as is the occasional bit of rump.   Choose lamb cutlets rather than chops,  buy chicken breasts but never wings.  With pork  be careful by buying cuts for roasting  and never the fatty chops.     The fish should be flaky cod and not herring which is filled with those tiny bones.    I find a mature crusty brie - a bit past its sell by date -  is great for the digestion and the smell usually puts  it beyond the taste of young people.  By the way, it goes  well with a good sauterne.   In other words, only the best will do.     

Alcohol.  Never having been a spirit drinker I don’t miss whisky, gin or rum.  Nowadays,  not being able to retain a pint means that beer is a  ‘No-No’ except for the occasional glass of  strong dark barley wine.   Wine is, however, a must.    Wine helps with the digestion, saves on the water bill, and tastes good.   There is no point for an Old Man to drink rubbish .    Bad wine, red or white,  is to be refused unless of course there is nothing else available at the time.  

Walking the dog is fine but don’t exercise a greyhound or fox terrier.      Make sure you get something that will walk at your heel, sit on your feet, by the foot of your stool, in the pub.

Horse riding is great exercise.    Get a gelding rather than a mare, nothing over 15h2 - otherwise  it is too high to climb onto.  It should be at least 12 years of age perhaps even older.    Buy it a Western saddle with a nice comfy sprung seat.     Make sure it will stand when tied up at the pub.     Make sure you fit an address tag to the bridle in case you fall off and remember to let go of the reins if you do.    Take a  cell phone even if the signal doesn’t work in your area - you never know you might get lucky.   Fit an address  label to the horse’s head collar.  Absolutely everyone will worry about a loose horse,    so just hope they will wonder why the rider is missing.

Certain chores are specifically forbidden  as being bad for the heart, namely:  window shopping, strenuous gardening,   decorating,    housework,    ironing,  weddings,    funerals,   christenings.

Finally beware of doctors.    They get paid a lot of money both  for confirming that you have got what they thought you might have and equally as much for finding that you have not got what they thought you probably have    When you do find  what  you  have actually got, probably the Doctor   was not looking for it.   

Welcome to the fifth age.    It can be quite comfortable so long as you don’t take it too seriously.   Just be grateful the clock is still ticking.


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## Lilly Davidson (May 6, 2012)

Hi Divus 
I have so enjoyed reading this, it is excellent and so entertaining and funny - even though I am a woman. A lot of this is applicable because my husband is considerably older than me and is now definitely into his old age. I have already come to terms with the fact that our lives must now be different but we see no reason at all for not enjoying life to the full. We eat well, love wine and keep our sense of humour. We talk, laugh and live simply with a gentle attitude towards each other and each day. I love your advice, it is life enhancing.


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## Divus (May 6, 2012)

Dear Lily  you have made my day.  I am glad you enjoyed the piece

It so happens that I have been trolling through the 47 threads I have started  since June 2010 when I first joined the WForum.   I have been trying to work out where the audience for my writing lies.    The second thread I ever started on this forum  was ”_An Introduction to Gromen_” (Pseudonym for Grumpy Old Men.) and to date that article has attracted 995 viewers   although _“Gromen 3” _posted on the 20[SUP]th[/SUP] July 2010 attracted an all time record for me of 1305 viewers.        Since the diatribes of an Old Codger  have proved to be  popular, I shall write more of them.

However nowadays the raw fact is that the average viewership per thread which  I enjoy is around a mere 250 viewers, so that is why yesterday I decided to post another Gromen article to test the market.    And Lily, bless your cotton socks,  you picked up on it, and what’s more,  you made a comment.   Thank you.   

One of the ploys for any writer is to learn to know the taste of his/her audience    Elsewhere if I write an article about horses on a Horse Forum I can attract a viewership running into thousands - only recently one thread topped 10,000 viewers.    That particular thread was regularly bumped up by me to its present level.  It is the story about my life with a horse.  However I know I have a good understanding of the nature of my audience in the world of horses.        Interestingly here on WFcom way back in September  2010  I did post a thread entitled “The Novice Seat - how to ride a horse” and surprisingly that thread attracted 1071 viewers, which for me is a high number.

How is it that a figure of 10,000 is achievable for me on one forum whereas here on a specialist writing forum I am lucky to hit 250 viewer/readers?      What I have noticed is that in the old days I could provoke Olly, The Ox, Garza or even  Ash to butt in.   Their participation by posting on the thread must have boosted the number of viewers.    Recently I seem to have lost that knack, although I was pleased to see that Garza did pick up on a doggie story

So far since Jan 2011 the best result  I have achieved   was entitled  “Grandma’s Cooking” which brought a modest 549 viewers in July 2011.      

For me the purpose of this post is to find out what I am doing ’Write’ and what I am doing ’Wrong’.   

I can’t see the viewers, so I can’t judge the look on their faces when they are reading my work.    If you members want me to write more interesting stuff then please tell me what it is that appeals to you  and what makes you ignore my writing.       I know I am of a different generation.  I accept that I am a stuffy old Brit who writes in traditional English style rather than in modern American prose *but please tell me where I am going wrong from your point of view - warts and all.*
Divus


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## Lilly Davidson (May 6, 2012)

Hey Divus 

I find 'grumpy old men' or indeed 'grumpy old women' writings interesting and hilarious - including the TV programmes of the same name. It is of course because at the age of 49 and married to a man 20 years older, it is relevant to my life. A sense of humour is the difference between enjoying life or not! 

It is quite a skill to plug into what people would find interesting, it has to do with what is universal and common experience I suppose along with multiple other factors. I have always simply liked listening to those older than myself who have great experience and wisdom in life. 

I look forward to reading more of your work.  I hope you are enjoying this lovely evening and bank holiday weekend.


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## jeffrey c mcmahan (May 9, 2012)

Divus:

Stanza nine, first line. Fix it. Otherwise a very well written piece. Wonderfully descriptive, laced with subtle, and not so subtle humour. An enjoyable read.
I know how gratifying it is to see those views add up, and how disappointing it is to wait for replies. But at some point you have to laugh at yourself, as you do so well, and maybe post wise witticisms and snappy speech, providing critiques for others. Take me for example; or at least my wife: I have been haunting the main poetry board, and I could use some constructive critical analysis'; or perhaps some humourous': comments of my work. But enough about me, can I have your wife?

regards

jeffrey


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## Divus (May 9, 2012)

Jeffrey asks, very politely': 'can I have your wife?'
Hmmm.   Not sure.
What for ?   I wonder.    

Presumably Jeff is asking for use of a female and the delights thereby assumed to be forthcoming.

In reply:  "I am not sure, Jeff,  I don't know you well enough".

I think it might suit you better to borrow my horse - she is also a mare but one slighly better trained.

One is an Essex Girl, something racially different; the other a daughter of Molly, in the honour of which they erected a statue in Dublin.

Neither is for the novice rider.


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## Lilly Davidson (May 9, 2012)

Wives are certainly useful things, I am one myself.


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## jeffrey c mcmahan (May 9, 2012)

Oh, a Briton! Hm, the reference may be a culture thing. Do you know who Groucho Marx is, of the Marx brothers? One of their one liners was, "Take my wife, please."

Thus, Take me for example; or at least my wife: then, But enough about me, can I have your wife?

Gezz, you Brit's just have no sense of it, it seems

30 Love

regards

P.S. I know having to explain a joke is counterproductive, but, there you have it.


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## The Backward OX (May 10, 2012)

Divus, all this talk of Viewer Count tells me you don't know about bots.


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## Lilly Davidson (May 10, 2012)

Hey Jeffrey 
The Marx Brothers were the funniest people on earth. I have an well thumbed book which is a collection of letters Groucho wrote. When I am in need of cheering up I just read that and end up crying with laughter. He wrote letters to everyone with a ferociously funny effect.


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## Divus (May 10, 2012)

To ask for and take responsibility for my wife or my mare is no laughing matter.

Only yesterday a vet said to me that I must as 'owner' - hmmm that's dodgy

Guarantee the 'horse's comfort and well being.'

I seem to vaguely remembering  'pledging my troth' - so presumably I took it down to the pawnbrokers!

If I give my wife to you, can I get my troth back?
If so what do I do with a troth?

And do I have to pay? 

You know Jeff, my horse would be a much better option.


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## Divus (May 10, 2012)

Ox, what's all this about bots?

There's no flies on my Missus

She's been around me for far too long.   Come to think of it, she's a bit long in the tooth

Even Jeff as a Yank, would not want to get his leg over any thing but my mare  would he?


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## jeffrey c mcmahan (May 10, 2012)

Divus:

Ok, 30 15

In truth your troth must be true
But when you ask me, what should I do?
I respond, oh so very quick
With patter, wit, and hilarious shtick
What you do, do it quite well
And all the things, I could presently tell
Because if you do, your due, you will recompense
Your state of youth, which most certainly has gone hence
As to your mare, don't make me go there
Because if I do, people will most certainly stare
The moral of the story, I hope is quite clear
Friendly rivalries,  tennis for two, the end of the set, I tell you, is near.

45 15

regards

jeffrey


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## Divus (May 10, 2012)

Jeffrey
If only I could write poetry - but sadly the skill, which you obviously have, eludes me.

However I can ride a horse.

Dv


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## Divus (May 10, 2012)

Seeing that some folks are actually reading my compositions , here is another in the series

*GROMEN 8    The LUCK of the DRAW.    *


I have often thought about my nationality and whether or not I was lucky to be born in a bed in Brixton, a run down suburb of London or whether it would have been better for me to have been born elsewhere in the English speaking world.       The language component  I think is a must, for I would not have liked to have to learn to speak English as a second language.   For that reason alone, my choice of nationality would be limited to those countries in which English, or a version of it, is spoken as the first language.          


Bearing in mind the racial prejudice that exists in this modern world, I think I was lucky to be born Caucasian with a white skin,  be it one which reddens with the too much alcohol  and peels with prolonged exposure to the sun.   I am happy to be bald and few other races appear to produce shiny pated bald men  who are  born blessed with the advantage in life of not having to  pay for the services of a barber.     (Although one must always wear a hat in the winter months).   Similarly I do not shave  but I would not like it if that  option were my only choice.  There are advantages to those of us who sport a beard although there are some embarrassments in later life especially if one loses one’s teeth and develops the habit of dribbling.


I have become used to wearing trousers both long and short and whilst I can see the advantages of wearing as male attire a white  voluminous gown, I can only see it to be a practical option if the women in my life have access to a mobile washing machine and an ironing board on wheels.     Likewise I would think that  having the choice of more than one wife  would be a financial burden.   I have always felt it to be more appropriate to be a little circumspect in the choice of female companionship.     Long legs, a trim figure with shapely buttocks, a pretty face, long tresses and a sweet voice are not necessarily the prime  attributes to look for in a wife over the longer term,  as certain other capabilities can prove to be more useful.  An  example of a necessary capability  would be whether wifey could push a wheel chair when one reaches old age.   Also there is the question of whether the cooking appeals to a jaded palette.    But could she be trusted to iron a favourite tee shirt printed with a photo of  a favourite pet dog?     I personally am especially lucky in  my own wife of  46 years, in that she can still exercise my horse which, I must confess, is an ability I never even allowed for in my choice of her all those years ago.   Perhaps then I was too obsessed with her other undoubted attractions.       


So you can see I am beginning to restrict myself to where I might have wanted to be born.    The choice boils down to the US, Canada, Australia  and New Zealand.   I suppose  could add the Channel Islands.  


Sorry, the two islands of New Zealand are both smaller than Great Britain  and are far, far away from civilisation.    There are volcanoes lurking underground and blokes with curly hair, wielding cudgels, who play a fearsome game of rugby (That‘s a version of American football without the protective gear).


The Channels Islands only makes sense if you are very rich  after all there aren’t many ways of making money if you are born there, unless you plan to grow tomatoes.      Mostly you chose to live there in later life when you are rich and can afford the price of a house.


Canada as the second largest country in the world and as such must offer attractions but it is quite noticeable that most of the existing population live within a 100 miles of the border with the US.    I have visited there in the winter and for we bald men,  those strong winds do blow cold, indeed bitterly cold and since I shall probably  be born again with a bald head, the world of the Eskimo is a no no.      Anyway I prefer a house to be made of bricks and mortar.  


The attractions of Australia have been sung to me on numerous occasions.    After consulting a map and listening to Dame Edna I have noticed that most of Australia is a hot dry sandy desert  and that the inhabitable bits are all around the edges.    Living amidst the population  are monster spiders which have a poisonous bite; massive alligators with lots of serrated teeth and sharks which have a taste for human flesh.   Indeed I am told that seven of the world’s ten most dangerous creatures are resident on the Monster island.   Now I could live with the local accent.  I need never drink Fosters because  they make some pretty drinkable plonk over there      But all those sheilas running about in bikinis, well it would be too much of a distraction.     Plus it would be a long way to swim back home.     No, Aussieland can do without me, especially since in most years the Home of Lost Pomms is running out of fresh water.


Which leaves the US.  The big problem there is to choose which bit.    Down in Texas they always wear funny cowboy hats and drive around in pick up trucks with a rifle resting on a rack over the driver’s seat .  They keep the  hand gun in the glove box on the dashboard.     They shoot cold callers who knock on the front door.   And the hot, the dripping wet,  dank concoction they call fresh air just is not for me to breathe without air conditioning. Which is noisy.    However up North in states like Illinois and  New York  the air is breathable but can have one night of  snow which will leave  the car completely covered for weeks..      
Over on the West in California they have film stars for political leaders  and they are so conscious of their personal appearance that when they smile their faces crack from the overuse of Botox.     
Whereas down in Florida, ladies of pensionable age are expected to wear bikinis on the beach, whilst wearing big straw hats when hobbling along the street with the help of  walking sticks.  Or one speaks Spanish.
There is no doubting that the  USA really is a big honey pot and there is just so much space to choose from.      It would be getting the balance right which would take so long that by the time you had worked out where is the best place to be born, you  would have already spent your three score years and ten in the choosing. 


So what’s left - Yes you’ve got it - the Island of Great Britain.     Even there you have to be careful.    If you look over to the West there are guys dressed like the Klu Klux clan spouting poems in a long lost language accompanied by a harp.      And up in the far north there are bearded hairy guys wearing pleated skirts, who are often to be found playing a so called instrument which makes a noise a bit like a cross between  a car  engine mashing its gears and a foghorn designed to deter whales on a foggy night.


So I would be left with choosing the English bit to the south on Great Britain.    England is bordered by the Severn river and roughly speaking by a wall built by a Roman general.   The  bitterly cold North Sea lies to the east  and the current infested English Channel,  which the French call: ‘La Manche‘,  is to the south       However even then there are pitfalls to avoid.     ScouseVille, the Geordie Moors,  the Cumbrian Lakes and the Land of  Beef Gravy and Pudding are all a bit too far north on a island located on the same latitude as  Labrador     The only solution to living up there for a lifetime would to wear all year round  a scarf and  woolly underwear.          I’d never need sun tan lotion.


By a process of elimination it has quickly become evident that whilst sitting outside the pearly gates for the shuttle bus  down to Earth,  I would not have much choice.   The last time I made  the trip, I found  myself getting off the No 59 bus in South London.     Coming into this world as I did,  as naked as a peeled apple, I did not  know if my begetting was the result of my Father’s long term dalliance with a young maiden or the result of a quickie on a cold night.   Literally for me it was a case of pot luck.     He was an honest man, my Dad, even if he did leave it a bit late to marry my Mum.     As it happened a couple of years later,  I was very lucky to avoid the studied attention of a certain middle aged man wearing a funny moustache possessed of  a loud  charismatic voice who was determined to rule the world and bring it all round to his way of thinking.    His bombs missed me every time. 

So, as a result, I found myself born to be  a  Brixtonian, one of the few who never ever developed a taste for reggae music.   I suppose I could have drawn a much shorter straw.     You never know, if only I had chosen a different bus on the last trip, what with my love of horses, in later life I might have found myself living in hot sticky Texas spending my days sitting on a Western saddle chasing the smelly end of a  cow.

What it is to choose.


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## k3nsi (May 11, 2012)

Your tone and expression is very engaging, I really enjoyed reading your pieces. Its so refreshing to see a different perspective on growing into "bigger kids" as I joke with my friends. Small note -> 3rd paragraph, 3rd line, missing a period but you've got the correct capitalisation.


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