not so much that misery loves company, but more that misery prefers to not be alone

I feel like the phrase ‘misery loves company’ implies that miserable people want to make other people miserable too, that they want to inflict their misery on others. I think that’s largely true.

But sometimes I hear about someone else’s misfortune and while I’m not happy about it, I do derive a certain amount of solace from it.

Case in point: the other night at band practice, my right hand was doing a weird thing it does sometimes where, after playing intensely for a while, I lose control of the finer motor skills in my wrist and hand. Like, normally I hold drumsticks like this:

But when my hand does its weird thing, I just can’t hold the stick like that, and the stick starts sliding and rolling around my hand unless I resort to holding it like this:

And you really can’t play drums very well holding your sticks like clubs.

I don’t know what’s going on but I suspect it’s carpal tunnel syndrome because way back when, a drummer in a previous band of mine had a similar complaint and CTS was the cause. Who knows though.

Anyway, after our last band practice when my club hand symptoms were really acting up, I asked Paul (a long-time drummer) if he had ever experienced anything like that. He said no, and I felt alone. Then he said that he had been having some other weird drumming issues since hurting his neck and back quite a few months ago, but more of a pinched nerve-type pain at certain times. And I noticed when he said that, I felt better. Not because I’m happy that Paul is getting old and fucked too, but because I don’t want to be alone in getting old and fucked. It’s a safety in numbers thing. It made me feel like we were in the same boat, facing similar things, that we could relate to each other on this stuff.

I’ve thought about this a few times over the years, basically since I started having typical aging issues. I used to roll my eyes a bit at old fuckers going on to each other about their ailments, but now I think I get it. I think they’re also looking for camaraderie in their fucked-ness, just like I am. The poor geezers. I’ll try not to roll my eyes at them and their moaning anymore.

night hikes

When our dog Stella died back in the summer, I largely stopped hiking. Without the need to take the dog out for some exercise, I lost half my reason for doing it, plus I had started drumming a lot more — about an hour a day, and that’s far more of a workout for me than hiking ever was. I still wanted to hike, because drumming is great exercise but it’s not enough full body movement, and it’s not enough natural movement that I think is important to maintain as we age. I believe you just have to keep moving and doing stuff or before you know it, your body will suck at doing much of anything.

But another problem I had with hiking is that without a dog, I was worried about how I would be perceived hiking on the mountain by myself. I feel that if you have a dog or if you are wearing shorts and obviously going for a run, or if you have other implements that make you look serious about hiking like poles or an expensive-looking backpack, you look like you have a good reason for what you are doing. But if you’re just dressed regularly and walking around a mountain by yourself, you look like a real weirdo. So I’ve avoided hiking and only gone a few times in the last six months or so, and only when I could do it with pals who were taking their mutts out.

…Until lately, that is. In the last week or two I’ve gone on four hikes without looking like a weirdo. Well, that’s not true. I probably look weirder than ever but there hasn’t been anyone on the mountain to see me so that’s fine. That’s because I’ve been going at night. I just went tonight, at 7:20 pm. It’s been good, it feels nice to get back into that particular form of exercising, and the woods at night in the winter have a particular kind of spookiness and loneliness to them that I really enjoy.

I’m not sure if this is something I’ll keep up or do with any regularity but for now I’m enjoying it, and I’m happy that I figured out another way to do it that suits me better than the alternatives. Now I just have to hope I don’t run into anyone even weirder than me up there.

^{If I disappear, it’s probably because this happened to me.}

i’m on a cookie diet

A few months ago, I was watching UFC with Ben and Madeline, eating copious amounts of cookies, chips, and bubble tea. Madeline looked at the nutritional info for the cookies and was like “holy shit, each cookie is 250 calories” or something like that. That comment got me thinking about how many calories I was consuming per day in cookies, chocolate, bubble tea, etc. I figure it was probably in the neighbourhood of 500-1000 calories per day, and I was like “holy cow, that’s a lot of unnecessary calories.”

Around the same time, I began wondering why many obese men have huge guts but they don’t jiggle. I looked it up and learned that our bodies store fat either as subcutaneous fat (just under the skin, the jiggly kind) and visceral fat (deeper in your abdomen, around your internal organs) — men’s bodies are more prone to visceral fat, women to subcutaneous fat. While I’ve felt ok with how I’ve looked for a while now, these things got me wondering: if I stopped eating so much sugary shit every day, would I lose some weight?

Well, it’s been a while now, maybe 6 weeks, and the answer to that question is yes. According to the scale I’ve lost about 8 lbs, which I don’t really care about because weight fluctuates and the numbers are so abstract, but more importantly, I’m happier with what I see in the mirror. My midsection is noticeably slimmer (to me, anyway — I have no idea if anyone else would notice), and I like that. Aging can be difficult in many ways even at the best of times so if I can keep control over the “getting fatter as time goes on” variable, that’s one less thing for me to hate aging over.

I’m still eating normal meals, and I still allow myself a small amount of chocolate or ice cream or whatever each day. I’m just not gorging on sugary stuff like I had been. I think it’s pretty wild that I was eating enough sugar to make this much of an impact on my body. For the record though, I don’t feel any differently — I hate when people say silly shit like “I feel so much better, I’m more clearheaded and alert when I don’t eat sugar,” or anything along those lines. Bullshit. I feel exactly the same. Still nap most days if I can, still have inconsistent sleeps at night, body still aches now and then, I still forget things sometimes, sometimes I’m highly motivated while other times I’m lazy as a turd, etc. I hate hippie dippy hogwash like “stop eating _____ and you’ll feel so much better in every way!” If someone does feel like that, it’s either because they’re a psycho having weird mood swings, or its psychosomatic and they simply believe they feel better, or they’re just straight up lying. Probably the last one.

Anyway, back to me. I feel like I will be back here again in a few years, because I have been here before a few times in the past. I wonder if I’ll ever learn my lesson for good and stick with moderating my sugar intake all the time. Hard to say. I feel I’ve learned a lot with this experiment so far (I’m going to keep it up for another 2-4 weeks and see if I continue to shrink) and hope that once it’s over, I have a better perspective on how much sugar I’m eating each day.

^{It’s a process.}

ozymandias

Yesterday Jenn was going through some old photos online and found a few of us from 14 years ago. I obviously looked much younger then, different from how I look now, and seeing my old self made me uncomfortable. It was like the old me in the picture wasn’t me at all.

Isn’t that weird? I was shocked at my reaction, at my preference for my older, grizzled visage (I think it’s because I’m more familiar now with my current face than my face from 14 years ago). But I was also shocked that I would see an old pic of myself and feel so disconnected from the old me. It was kind of a disassociative experience.

I wonder if this is very common. I don’t think I’ve heard people talk about this before. I feel like the usual story is you see old pics of yourself and go “dang, I was so much younger and better looking then, I really let myself go,” yada yada. And I’m not saying I wasn’t more youthful or attractive then, just that I’m more familiar with the current me, like it more because of that, and feel weird when I see old pics of myself now. Anyway, now I’m going to start asking friends if they’ve ever experienced this too.

I was definitely slimmer back then though, I’ll give my old self that. Lived leaner then, cheaper. I’ve been working on that lately though, getting back to living a bit leaner, and it’s going well. Just need to remember that too many cookies and full sweetness bubble teas catch up with me if I don’t moderate my intake of that stuff.

all creatures get tired of life

I’ve been watching lots of cute baby elephant videos lately, and they’ve been reminding me of a sad phenomenon I’ve noticed across all creatures in the last few years: young creatures are happy and find all kinds of things wildly fun and entertaining, and as creatures age — humans and animals alike — they get surly and seem to enjoy life less.

Now, you might say, “well hey, Doug, just because adult elephants aren’t rolling around in the mud like their kids doesn’t mean they’re having any less fun — maybe the fun that those adult elephants have is more internalized, cerebral, blah blah blah.” To that, I say, “nope.” I just don’t believe it. When I watch adult animals, they are similar to adult humans in that they are no longer taken by the magic of life. They still have things they like, sure, but they aren’t as carefree and playful as when they were young. Generally speaking they get tired, sore, surly, don’t wanna do all the stuff they did when they were young. You go to the beach for a few years and it gets old, you know? At that point, it takes more and more extravagant things to get an old creature pumped up — going new places, maybe playing with young creatures, that sort of thing. Of course, in human cases, we want fancy cars, vacation homes, loads of money, fame, to be physically attractive forever, all kinds of wack stuff.

Anyway, seeing this in humans is not new for me, but realizing it seems to afflict all creatures is. I don’t know why this should make me any sadder than I was about humans but it does. I guess because when I look at animals, they all seem so cute and dumb and innocent and carefree, but now I don’t know if that’s true. I hate to think of those dumb cuties feeling bummed, feeling bored, maybe being depressed.

Losing the wonder and excitement of youth is sad, no matter whether it occurs to a human, an elephant, or anything else. I wish everything didn’t have to get tired of life. I wish we’d all die right then so no one had to feel anything less than wow’d by rolling around in some mud with a buddy.

my skin

I’ve got a rash on both my ankles. It’s on the outside, just above the bony bump that sticks out. It’s worse on the right side but also present on the left. I’ve had it for a really long time, at least a few years. That’s when I remember first noticing it — my physiotherapist was working on my legs and was essentially like “ew” when she saw it. I forgot about it though because it’s one of those spots on the body where you can’t see it yourself unless you use a mirror. But I made a connection this week when I was lying in bed one night: often when I first hop in bed, the outside of my ankles get really fucking itchy. I always thought it was just a silly mind thing, some psychosomatic bullshit, but the other night I had just noticed the rash in the mirror so when the same spot got itchy a few minutes later, I finally put 2 + 2 together. So now I’m treating it with an anti-fungal cream. We’ll see how this goes.

On top of that, while treating the rashes I noticed I’ve got a lot of old person varicose veins all over my legs. I’ve always had lots of them high up on my legs but again, it’s tough to see your lower legs well so those ones were news to me. But the weird thing is that I don’t mind my seniors veins OR my ankle rashes. I think they both look kind of neat, in a weird way. They make those bland parts of my body interesting to look at. Maybe I’ll feel differently as I continue to age but for right now, I get a bit of a kick out of them.

Now you’re all caught up on my ugly legs. On with your day.

calling bullshit on danny elfman’s ‘natural’ physique at age 68

A few weeks ago, Danny Elfman (the guy behind The Simpsons theme song, the voice of Jack Skellington in The Nightmare Before Christmas, the primary songwriter in 80’s weird rock band Oingo Boingo, etc) performed at the Coachella festival. He is 68 now but I didn’t even recognize the guy performing because his body looked fantastic, plus he was covered in tattoos, and had grown his hair out a bit. He looked great.

^{Danny Elfman at age 68}

Now, I’ve followed Elfman for about 20 years, and he was always a dorky, ugly-looking guy. At his very best in his 20’s (back in the early 80s), he looked moderately fit. And like all people, as he aged he got a little chubby and soft. His haircut got even dorkier, in a non-ironic way. I even saw footage of him not long ago, in the last year or two, and he looked just as homely as ever. This is a good example of the man as I’ve known him to look since around the year 2000:

So you can imagine my confusion at seeing him suddenly looking about 30 years younger at Coachella, at the age of 68. I quickly realized that lots of people online were as shocked as I was. I found an interview he did with GQ recently where he talked about his tattoos, diet, and workout regimen, and that’s it. No mention of testosterone replacement therapy.

Come on. Let’s be honest. That’s bullshit.

People in their late 60’s can’t suddenly turn the clock back on their bodies by 30 years by suddenly working out and eating well. The best they can hope for is to look like a healthy 60-something. Our bodies just don’t produce hormones like they do in our teens and 20’s, so bulking up and putting on muscle at 68 is simply not possible.

…Unless you are on some kind of hormone replacement therapy. Which is all well and good! I have no problem with people making any informed decision they want for themselves. But I wish people would be honest about it and own it, that’s all. Just admit that you hated how your body was looking and found a doc to hook you up with some HRT. I don’t think there’s any reason to be ashamed of that.

Some skeptics might disagree with me and think I’m crazy, but I’ve met older dudes who are on HRT, and I’ve seen the changes firsthand. There were also a number of MMA fighters in the UFC who were on HRT and had Adonis-like bodies until the UFC started an anti-doping program which no longer allowed fighters to use HRT. Suddenly those jacked, shredded fighters looked like withered old prunes. Vitor Belfort was the best example, here is a before/after pic of him.

So yeah, I have no doubts that Elfman is using some kind of HRT. Coupled with his youthful new haircut and tattoos all over his body, I think it’s very likely the man is having some kind of 3/4 life crisis, desperately grasping at youth as he approaches the twilight of his life. It’s ironic because of how much of his art has been about death, not being afraid to die, etc. But I guess aging and dying are two different things. I’d sure love to sit down and chat with Elfman about this and see where his head is at on these topics nowadays.

aging poorly

I’m watching a Hot Ones interview with Weird Al from 2018 and he doesn’t look great. I noticed right away that he looked a bit chunky and formless, and then they showed some pics of him from the 80s and 90s and I realized holy cow, yep he’s put on a LOT of weight, and it looks bad.

It’s not just Weird Al though. I recently watched Dave Mustaine of Megadeth jamming with some kids and he had a big old belly sticking out. I saw some news about 90’s reggae-rap-rock band 311 and one of their singers is now soft-bodied and wearing golf shirts, looking like a suburban dad whose wife doesn’t even want to touch his pale schmeebs (that’s a word I learned for ‘male breasts’ back in high school). Dave Grohl from Nirvana and The Foo Fighters. Jack Nicholson. Virtually every metal musician I grew up listening to. I could go on but I’m sure you get the point. They all look like hell now.

It got me thinking about the biggest keys to aging well, and I think they are this: stay slim; don’t smoke; don’t get too much sun; don’t furrow your brow all the time. That’s what I’m going to try. I’m not expecting to turn into Dorian Gray or anything, I just want to try to be one of those people who I see that make me think, “yeah, they have aged, but they still look fucking cool somehow.” Like David Bowie. He’s the best example of aging well that I can think of, and that’s what I aspire to.

people I see: aging jock

Scotiabank, Duncan, Friday, 10:45 am. In line for a teller. There is a man standing in front of me, approximately 50 years old, dumpy, wearing a fitted and matching grey Under Armour outfit, grey baseball cap, and new grey running shoes. Something is going on either with his butt or the butt of his pants, making it look like he has a full diaper underneath those tight athletic pants. Ruddy complexion and bleary-eyed, like he drinks or smokes too much, or both. Unshaven. It looks like he hasn’t done any kind of exercise since he played beer league hockey 25 years ago but he still sees himself as some sort of sports icon. He does his banking, exits the building, and climbs into a nice new truck.

People I see: Juke Dude

Victoria, BC, around 10 am. Driving toward downtown on a December morning. I notice a Nissan Juke that is uglier than normal because someone has added orange highlights to various parts of the body. “Who thinks this is a sweet car?” I ask myself, so I pull up next to the Juke and look at the driver. He’s 50-65 years old, hard to tell because his skin is so red and leathery. He’s smoking with the windows up. Has straight hair down to his jaw, sort of like a teen in the grunge scene of the 90’s but his hair is definitely not grunge. It’s quite perfect and ‘just so,’ like he cares a lot about this look and puts in the work to make it like this. Wearing the same style of sunglasses like everyone wore in the first Matrix movie, very late 90’s/early 2000’s. He looks like he must have been the bass player from a shitty rock band in the 80’s, like The Headpins or something like that. One of those bands you’ve never heard of but might half-recognize their hit song if someone played it for you. He looks like he still believes he is a rock star despite driving a Juke and being old and out of touch. Hanging from the rear view mirror are some crystals and a festive xmas season snowflake decoration — interesting touches, those. Did he put them there, or does he share the car with his partner?