May 19, 2014 at 8:51 pm , by Nick Shell
3 years, 6 months.
Saturday morning, I introduced you to The New Woody Woodpecker Show on Netflix.
As soon as you saw Dr. Von Kook, you proclaimed, “Hey Daddy, that’s an old man!” It was if he was a purple magical unicorn or something.
Then there was that perfect 5 second delay before you gave me a classic follow-up comment:
“Daddy, do they still make old mans?”
You were completely sincere in your curiosity.
I suppose I said yes somewhere in the midst of my immediate uproar of laughter, but I don’t necessarily remember it.
It’s hilarious to imagine human factories that manufacture people; that they purposely make “old mans.”
Which is the other thing I love about your question: the alternative way to make “man” plural… just add an “s”.
Yes, Son, they still make old mans.
I am especially reminded of that since my past couple of haircuts; noticing that my hair is now a tad thinner than it was just a few years ago.
Like most men, I will gradually go the way of the ever manly Bruce Willis. With each Die Hard sequel, he appeared wiser, tougher, more experienced, and even cooler.
And I’m totally fine with my follicle fate.
Back in 1991, I remember standing at the bathroom counter in the house I grew up in, which was furnished with the finest dark brown wall paneling and dark brown shag carpet.
As I brushed my teeth one night, I remember looking at both of my parents, who were the age I am now, around 33.
I thought, “One day I will be 33 like them. I’ve got so many years until I get there. But one day, that’ll be me.”
I was 10 at the time. I decided in that moment, to consciously remember that forever, like a permanent bookmark.
But now, that “one day” has come. I am now that age.
Granted, 33 is not old or even close to it.
They still make old mans, but I’m definitely not one of them yet.
Top photo: courtesy of The New Woody Woodpecker Show.