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8 Seconds

I was just reading a brochure about Long Term Care, a product that my company offers. It said that every eight seconds, someone becomes fifty years old. Let me tell you something. I really enjoy being twenty-six, and if, eight seconds from now, I suddenly become fifty, I’m going to be really pissed off!

Speaking of piss, if I were fifty, I would be running to the bathroom, because, from what I understand, when you’re fifty, your bladder isn’t as strong as it used to be. And right now, I’m drinking a large green tea, so you have to figure that a large green tea plus twenty-four years without urinating would result in some serious bathroom time. By the way, I’m drinking that large green tea at The Tea Lounge, my favorite coffee shop in Park Slope. If I should become fifty years old eight seconds from now, will I be the only one? Or will everyone else in The Tea Lounge also become that old? Is it a group thing? I doubt it. I would’ve heard about it by now. For example, a newspaper headline would’ve read:

Mets Blow 7-0 Lead After Every Member Of The Team Mysteriously Ages

Actually, the Mets already play as if they’re fifty years old anyway, so it probably wouldn’t even make headlines. What if everyone in Shea Stadium (or any stadium, for that matter) were to suddenly age? That would be strange, wouldn’t it? But I digress.

Looking around the room, I’m trying to figure out what everyone in The Tea Lounge would look like at the age of fifty. There are three women in this room right now that I would want to have sex with. All three of them are sitting separately, and if I had to guess their ages, I would say that they were 19, 23, and 25. As you can imagine, I would find it to be quite inconvenient if they were to suddenly become fifty right in the middle of sex. Likewise, if I were to become fifty right in the middle of sex, I’m sure that they would find it to be quite inconvenient as well–not just because they would be fucking “a stranger”–but because one has to assume that, at the age of fifty, your dick isn’t nearly as hard as a twenty-six year old’s.

How scary would it be if I were to become fifty while doing drugs?

OWEN: Keith, eat this mushroom, Mate.

ME: Okay.

           (I eat the mushroom. Eight seconds later, I age twenty-four years)

JACKSON: Oh shit!

OWEN: Oh fuck, Mate!

ME: What?..What?…Look, stop staring at me, and eat a mushroom!

OWEN: No way!

JACKSON: Fuck no!

Here are some other situations where it would be inconvenient to suddenly age twenty-four years:

While playing basketball

Right now, I can jump up and touch the rim. If I were 50, I probably wouldn’t even be able to touch the net.

While shaving

Twenty-four years of growth? We’re talking thousands of dollars on shaving cream and razors!

While showing my passport to a border guard

I’m guessing that this could get me into a certain amount of trouble.

While I’m hanging out with David Copperfield

Actually, he would probably be quite impressed with this. However, at some point, I would have to explain to him that my little “magic trick” doesn’t reverse itself.

Would I still have to worry about this bizarre medical condition if I lived in a different country? Or is it something that’s limited to the United States only? Not that it matters. I don’t ever want to live anywhere other than New York City, and my love for New York is so strong that I would rather be fifty here than twenty-six anywhere else. Anywhere. Even Bermuda. I mean, what if I went through all the trouble of moving to Bermuda, and then I found out that in Bermuda, someone becomes fifty every four seconds? It would have been a big waste of time.

 

cc: Gary Oldman

Old Man River

Ponce De Leon

 

September 30, 2005

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