The great Irish dramatist of the nineteenth century, George Bernard Shaw, once wrote that youth is wasted on the young. It makes sense to me. I feel reasonably sure that as most of us on this forum have passed our so called peak, we will at some time or other have felt the same way. I for one feel that nature has well and truly ****ed up. I've stored up decades of experience in all manner of subjects, but I fear that it's all coming to nothing. Where once as a teenager, it was just a matter of offloading after a couple of minutes of pelvic gyrations, usually to a Bob Dylan track like blowing in the wind, I now see myself as a long distance plodder. And the good wife of thirty five years appears to be well fooled by my efforts. She cuddles up to me and even holds my hand in public. But I didn't ask for this ageing bullshit, it's a most unpleasant inconvenience that's been thrust upon me against my will. How does it make sense to spend a life time accruing wisdom, passion and insight, top it all off with an enlightened imagination, then hang it on a fast withering piece of flesh? I read somewhere that we should be born mature and healthy, in our prime so to speak. Then mentally regress in as our bodies begin to fail us. I don't want to have one and not the other, it's bloody unfair. At this point in my life, I have the mind of a great lover. Women should grovel at my feat, in eager anticipation of what I can unleash in them. But honestly, what young, mindless bimbo wants to hang out with a wrinkly old bloke who can't keep his nuts away from his knees? It's ****ed, the whole evolution thing is just a crock of ****. It's rooted with a capital roo. So what has any of that got to do with racing? And well may you ask, if you did actually ask. Of course I can't possibly know whether you did or not. But I digress. The reason for the title "A Testament To Age" being chosen, is directly related to a gallant old warrior who will be going around in the 15:30 at Ffos Las, one Victory Gunner. This vintage wonder is 16 years of age and has been on the racing scene since 2002. One of the things that amazed me when I looked back over his race record, was that in his seventy odd appearances, he's only ever once been off his feet. He must have learned a valuable lesson that day, it happened at Exeter on the eighteenth day of November in the year of our Lord, two thousand and five. We greatly admire our Frankels and Kauto Stars, but racing is much more this these two super stars, it's also about the likes of the aptly named Victory Gunner. Have a safe passage old timer.
A fascinating essay, Cyc, but w a i t-a-m i n u t e, dear old Victory Gunner had 'that' most unpleasant operation when very young, so he wouldn't have the same complicated problems that older human males have? Dream and dream, man, that's the answer. Erm, are you taking the right pills in this respect? please log in to view this image Hear, hear, on the 'safe passage' for this wonderful old warrior!* *...and I see he only lost today's race by a neck! RP: "Tracked leader until led 6th, tended to jump right after, ridden 4 out, narrowly headed last, kept on gamely, just held.
I wasn't actually talking about whether old Victory was a stud muffin or not Swanny, I knew he was nutless. I was admiring his efforts in fighting off the ageing process, and in doing so, I fell into a state of melancholy, which started me to hollerin' and a cryin' about times lost. I feel a bit of Leadbelly coming on.
The thing I hate about getting older is the bloody hairs that have started growing in my ears, nose and across my back. To what ****ing purpose ??
Any why do my ears and nose appear bigger? And when you factor in a receding hairline, the whole effect becomes laughable.
I wonder who has most to fear from their coming exploits; an ageing hero who has to hump eleven stone around three miles with a few jumps to take or a close to sixty year old idiot who is off to Koln for 65 hours of drinking and bad behaviour with an i-pod blaring out various rock tracks from the past forty odd years. Anyway, roll on Sunday with Led Zeppelin, Neil Young, Leslie West, BAP and Peter Maffay plus Kolsh and Jack Daniels to keep me on the straight and narrow. Returning to the link with Victory Gunner I may, however unlikely, attempt a jump with an old nag!! Unfortunately this may involve the transaction of a few (?) euros. Ho-hum.
Right, Cyc, melancholia is the occasional battle, but, I say again, think of past conquests and dream on, man, dream on... Can't understand that either Oddy. I was once as thin as a beanpole, bushy head of hair, and no hair where no hair should be. Now, for God's sake, things are a little bit different....
Surely it can't be either evolution or God's will that a man should have spend his latter years with a pair of pruning sheers up his hooter.
Great post Cyc. Made me chuckle. But also dead right. I mean, why should we have to feel guilty, when we look at a young girl and think ....................................... It fills one with despair when one thinks "I would" but know damn well you won't be. FFS. Someone should take the blame.
Just one final comment from me on this rather morbid subject. Think only a couple of women have ever 'flirted' with me over the last 10-years or so (before that, probably none) and my only observation......."they were so bloody old!".......
Got to look on the bright side Swanny, imagine how much these middle aged, sex starved ladies would appreciate an old smoothie like your good self. You mentioned that you're now getting more flirting then ever before. It's the patter and ease we've learned in our progress through life, that stands us in good stead.
You must have heard the expression "live long and prosper". Well your ears certainly do - they never strop growing from the day you are born until the day you die. Live long and grow long then. The only solution is to top yourself when they have reached what you consider to be a reasonable size! And Oddy ............... re the excess hair ................... is this more noticeable depending on the phases of the moon?
On the ears issue, I think I read somewhere that there is a debate about why they "grow" larger with life. Some were suggesting actual growth, while others said it might be the effect of gravity. Don't know if it's true, but I've heard it said that nails and hair still grows for a while after death. If this is true, maybe our ears can too, until they run out of fuel. Now that we're into movement after death, has anyone tried necrophilia yet.
Guess many of you will remember when Larry LaPrise, the composer of the Hokey Cokey (Hokey Pokey in the U.S.) died in 1996 at the ripe old age of 93, the problems they had at the undertakers? The most traumatic part for his family was getting him into the coffin. They put his left leg in. And then the trouble started........
