Document text
SUNNY Temp: 79 °F Wind: ENE at 4 mph Tuesday, August 12, 2003 SECTIONS Home Page Local News Sports Business Obituaries Life Opinion - Politics AP News Weather Classified Archives Site Map EXTRA HomeLife Magazine W3 Magazine Jobs @ Mail Tribune Tempo A & E Oregon CarZone Wellness Connection Real Estate Newspaper in Education Prime Times Outdoor Journal Personals Movie Times TV Times E The People CLASSIFIEDS Find a Car Find a Home Find a Job Find Everything E SOUTHERN OREGON Automotive Communities Entertainment Publications Recreation Calendar ABOUT US FAQ What's New Advertise Home Delivery Classified Ad Contact Us Media Kit Email Story to a Friend July 20, 2003 Trials and tribulations of aging are hairy, at best My twin brother survived yet another birthday last week, one which pushed him two years past the half-century mark. A bushy-bearded fellow with a mischievous wit, he called via cell phone from the wilds of Idaho to check in with the other half of the combined 104-year-old unmatched fraternal set. "Hey, happy birthday," brother George begins, then immediately razzes me with, "You know you’re really starting to get old on me." Perhaps he was having a senior moment. I quickly reminded the good-hearted ribber that only half of those century-plus years are mine. Poor old geezer. Advertisement Besides, he’s the retired one. After more than two decades as a maintenance supervisor for a school district in northeastern Oregon, he’s a free spirit who has traveled the globe. The call came from the Flying B Ranch, a historic resort nestled in the Frank Church River of No Return Wilderness where he is working this summer. He’ll be heading to a resort in interior Alaska this fall to hibernate the winter away in deep snow. With his red beard peppered with gray and his ample paunch, he moves like a grumpy old grizzly en route to his lair. Indeed, the Grim Reaper had better pack a lunch when he comes calling for the roguish bruin. Besides, his twin will be solidly at his side when that distant day comes. Yet the toil and toll of the years are beginning to be felt on these mismatched duplicates. We may be mere babies in the Baby Boomer generation, but we are growing a little long of tooth. Take the hair. Please. What’s with it starting to crop up on the end of our noses like bunch grass? A hairy proboscis is not a pretty sight, particularly when you are looking cross-eyed at it through bifocals. Yep, pretty disgusting. We won’t talk about the nose hairs bristling inside the nostrils. Nope, let’s not explore that hairy phenomenon. Yow. Then there is the reddish hairline retreating faster than the Iraqi army in April on one of our foreheads. It looks like a full moon rising out of a thin forest. Remember the mane? Sure sorry about those retrograding locks, bro. But don’t get me started on those tufts growing thick as weeds from both our ears. They look like hairy caterpillars peeking out at the world. But they’ll come in handy when you return to Alaska this winter. Ear muffs au naturel. Perhaps the hairy ears are contributing to our fading hearing. Yet no matter how much I pull, clearcut or thin the acoustical hair, I find myself wondering more and more lately what folks are mouthing. It’s frustrating, yet kind of fun, wondering what words are being lost in our hairy ears. The call from my sibling other half was no different. "What else have you been doing? Any building?" he apparently asks. It sounded like he asked if Elvis had left the building. Ignoring the obviously snide remark, I ask how everything is going in the River of No Return. "No big burns yet but it’s getting hot," he replies. "I’m not sure when I’ll return." I change the subject, hoping to bridge the growing communications gap. "How’s the fly fishing?" I ask. "Maybe we’ll fly in there later this summer for a visit." He didn’t rise to the bait. "Nothing wrong with my eye," he says. "Why would you buy a Hummer? Damn gas hogs. Gotta go. My batteries are getting old." Too bad. I wanted to ask him his take on the ads I’d heard not long ago, the ones about elephantile dysfunction. If Bob Dole’s past concern is any indication, it sounds like it has something to do with the GOP. Reach reporter Paul Fattig at 776-4496 or e-mail him at [email protected] Printer Friendly Version Email Story to a Friend Subscribe Archive: Click to Search Mail Tribune Home Local News | Sports | Business | Obituaries | Life Opinion - Politics | AP News | Archives | Site Map E Southern Oregon | Classified Copyright © 1997-2003 Mail Tribune. All rights reserved. Privacy Policy | Terms & Conditions Website Feedback A D V E R T I S E R S SPECIAL SECTIONS Rogue Valley Auto Finder Rogue Valley Job Finder --> Rogue Valley Home Finder Joy Magazine Homelife Magazine Tempo Real Estate Showcase Food for Thought Hike of the Week Wellness Connection Outdoor Journal Moving to Southern Oregon? Volunteer Openings Prime Times