Old Father Time is probably the most heartless and uncaring creature in the universe. He makes our bodies old way before our minds are willing to accept it. One day we are young, vibrant, full of life. Then, in what seems like a matter of minutes, we are old with aches, pains, reduced capacities of essential senses and a reaffirmed sense of our own mortality.

I didn’t mind turning 30. Nor did I mind turning 40 or even 50. The advent of the need for eyeglasses was okay. Having my hair turn gray was something with which I easily coped.

However, my world fell apart yesterday.

I had a hearing test performed, and, well, the results confirmed something that I have known and denied for years – I have a significant hearing loss, particularly in my right ear,

. . . and I need a hearing aid.

WhileI was still numb from the hearing the test results, the doctor handed me a brochure which. I leafed through it without reading any of the text. In a state of shock, I simply said, “I’m too young for a hearing aid.”

In my mind, hearing aids are for old men. Eyeglasses are for all ages. Kids wear glasses. Gray hair is distinguished. But hearing aids are for old, decrepit men. Old, hunched over, feeble, wispy, little men.

The doctor looked at me and said, “Jim. I’m two years younger than you, and I wear one. They’re not just for senior citizens any more.”

“Yeah?” I replied. “Then how come every damned person pictured in this stupid brochure is either bald or has grey hair?”

A hearing aid!

I need a hearing aid.

I don’t really know why, but this fact really upsets me. I can’t even joke about it.

This new necessity in my life represents, to me, the tangible and undeniable threshold to old age.

Next, I’ll be growing a set a man-boobs just so that I’ll know how far up on my body I can hike my Bermuda shorts. I’ll wear white support hosery that I’ll stretch up to cover the varicose veins on my calves, and I'll hold them in place under my knees with black garters.

The left signal light in my car will be welded permanently in the “on” position.

I’ll start eating prunes.

Rather than having sex, the highlight of my day will be taking a good shit.

I’ll begin talking about “the good old days”. (Scratch that. I already do that!)

I’ll start eating supper at 4 p.m. so that I can go to bed by seven-thirty without having my meal “back up” on me.

I’ll turn on The Weather Channel, and leave it on all freaking day long.

I’ll start using expressions like “Dag nab it!” and “Well, if that don’t beat all!”

Sometimes, life is hard.

The exercising I do, the “eating right”, the abstaining from smoking, all of those things did nothing to stop the hands of time. Somehow or another, I still grew old!

It truly is amazing to me how the very, very young man who is writing this post could suddenly become so incredibly ancient.

I need a freaking hearing aid!