6 keys from the edge…

Is the mic on? No? I need the mic on. The world has to listen to what I’ve got to say? We have no mic? What’s that? The next mic is likely to come in after CHOGM? Very well then…

I’ve been doing some, nay, a lot…a lot of thinking. Its not so much that I actually sit down and resign myself to a state of contemplative repose with the customary pyramid of contemplation. I just happen to have friends that have taken to being deep. Their depth in turn tends to seemingly through actions capillary or otherwise be seeped into my being and concordantly, I too find myself thinking. For weeks prior it was all innocent banter seeing as most of their thoughts stemmed from a state of inebriation the likes of which would melt a breathalyzer. Then we had a chat spurred on by soft drinks of colors orange and tastes ginger…

From that conversation it occurred to me that I may actually be in denial. I may actually be the guy that doesn’t want to believe that age is nature’s way of getting you to…I lost my train of thought, but anywho. I’ve seen a guy who could easily be in his early 80’s (when you think of it, once you are well past 40 there’s nothing early about later decades), but carries on like he is one of us. And by us I mean jean clad sunglass wearing grills laced people. I shudder when I see him. It may be brought on by the sudden realization that this dude is what girls on campus like. An older guy that can not, not by a long shot anyway, be mistaken for their Father… After the conversation we had, it occurred to me that I could be looking at a reflection of who I am to become… Not the campus girl chasing pensioner, but rather the dude that at 80 will try to be like one of the cool kids…

The conversation also made me realize that people do actually contemplate weddings and getting married and what not. Back then people would flip through some magazine and look at the pictures and the chics in the bridal garb and drool..and that was just the dudes. Yeah. They looked on appreciatively. But now, it’s a whole new ball game. I’m freaked out. Its alarming to know that if I actually attempt to hit on a chic around my age (okay, or older) she’ll be looking at me and thinking, “is this really the guy I want to marry? Sure he looks nothing like the dude on page 3 of Him and Her magazine, but…”
What the heck? I am used to different standards entirely. Reject me coz I don’t drive…or don’t find Amarula family funny (scratch that, I think I would reject you for thinking those are the funniest Ugandans alive)..hell, I can deal with rejection because I can’t be detoothed, but don’t judge me on the basis of my matrimonial compatibility…

Be right back…got to get this mic fixed…