I met Rich last year in a Facebook writer's group, and after checking out out his blog, I KNEW I wanted to feature this funny man on my site. His dry wit and midlife humor is totally relatable to me. His post today put a big smile on my face because it sounds EXACTLY like something that would happen at my house. Hey, he mentions Hershey's chocolate. What's not to love?!? Please welcome the talented, witty, Rich Rumple to Meno Mama's site and leave him lots of comment love. Enjoy!
MATURE? HELL, WE'RE JUST GETTING OLD!
I hit 60 last month. No, not in golf … in age.
As I grow older, television advertising grows more and more ridiculous. This barrage of idiocy has no let up as night after night sponsors do their best to prey on those brain dead from viewing too much reality television and copycat talent shows.
Yes, this type of programming is a favorite of my Alabama born, grits loving, bleached blonde wife. (With those attributes, anyone from the South knows she immediately qualifies for a handicapped parking space and a free can of Skoal dip at any Dairy Mart below the Mason Dixon Line!) So, I’m stuck watching them, too.
Commercials become particularly aggravating as one grows older, as it is a pain to leave the room during them. Simply too much effort is needed to raise one’s tail from the pleasures provided it by a soft recliner cushion. Besides, energy levels drop as one ages. My wife recognizes this from my reluctance to leave the room when gas needs to be released. I just sit there and rock the jelly bean jar because of my desire to conserve my energy for more important things, like going to the fridge after another Diet Coke.
Yes, after thirty-four years of marriage, romance takes a back seat to farting.
Back to advertising! (Sorry, I tend to get off track more these days as my ramblings push the walker with wheels down many forgotten paths.)
I, as a man, have no need to feel fresh in my crotch as some commercials proclaim so boldly. I realize that this must be a woman thing, but I do remember days when I visited that area upon occasion before sex was an activity to only be fondly remembered. Seriously, if I’d ever visited the magic “V” and found a springtime freshness awaiting me, I’d probably grab a can of weed killer thinking I was in the wrong place and spray away before I caught poison ivy! Either that or Raid … which I found out long ago in college really did work effectively when I got a case of the crabs from a State Fair Queen and had no money to go to the doctor for treatment.
Oops … rambling again.
Commercials that are supposed to make fat people skinny tend to irk me off, too. I mean, the easiest way to lose weight is to stop eating. There’s a survival show called “Naked and Afraid” where they strip down a man and a woman to the stubs and nubs and leave them in the wilderness for twenty-one days. It never fails, the woman always loses about 15 pounds during that time, and the man around 25 pounds. (Which shows you that men really do have about ten more pounds of crap in them than women!) They don’t need any type of a diet pill that can cause nausea, headaches, loss of balance, possible loss of consciousness, elevated blood pressure, and/or diarrhea. They just don’t eat! Amazing how that always seems to be the answer, isn’t it?
In college, I recall running five miles every morning and every evening, as well as having a strong sit-up and toe touch regiment. It was the only time in my life I actually had a six pack ab area. In addition, living off campus at the time, my food allowance was almost non existent, especially with the price of Raid. Exercise and little to no food makes one lose weight. (Raid will also end one’s relationship with partners dedicated to oral sex!)
I’ve really got to stop rambling.
All of the male enhancement product commercials are completely unnecessary, too! First, I believe there’s a reason old men find it time to stay soft. Think about it. If picturing your grandparents getting it on turns you off, imagine what it does to them seeing each other in person!
And, when you get older and become grandparents, playing various bedroom games can be dangerous. I wonder how many bones have been broken tripping over lassoes and spurs and falling off the dresser trying to catch the other one running around the room! Envision your nude grandfather lying there, with a drug induced erection, screaming, “I’ve fallen and I got it up!”
No, sex for the elderly is something my wife has decided is not for us. She keeps saying, “What if you have a heart attack and die during it?”
My response is simple. “Just keep going and enjoy it. You’ll probably have three or four hours left if the pill lives up to its promises!”
She doesn’t have much energy left these days either.
No, my wife has decided we’re done with sex. Hard to believe sex will never happen again. I’m going to miss it, but I guess I can always watch my neighbors through the busted blind on the left side of their bedroom window. (Don’t ask me how I know about that!)
Oh well, there’s always Hershey’s Chocolate and Almond Nuggets to take its place!
I must say, though, there is some interest in finding out what it would be like to have a four hour erection. Don’t know what I’d do with it, but at least I could say it happened!
Maybe I could go to Walmart and stand next the fruit section singing, “Oh yes, I have a banana. I have a banana today!”
My wife doesn’t like that line. I’m not surprised. She wouldn’t know what to do with a four hour erection either. She’d probably have me stand next to her while she was ironing so she’d have someplace to hang my shirts.
Damn … rambling again!
Time to say goodbye. Since this is a guest post I’ll make it shorter than I usually do on my own blog. I’ve probably scared away half of the regular readers by now anyway.
Either that, or they’re all gathering at Walmart in the fruit section.
See you all there soon!
Rich Rumple is a published author of multiple Sales Training and Customer Retention manuals, as well as several short stories and countless newspaper articles. In addition, he wrote and created a stand-up comedy act of which he successfully performed for years onstage. Having lived in nine different states and several years in Europe, he now seeks a home where the locals will permit him to stay, instead of running him out of town with blazing torches and sharpened pitchforks. Boarding his personal rocket for the world of creativity with cigarettes and Diet Coke in hand, he allows his fantasies to run wild and his mind can only follow, sometimes. You can find his humorous rantings and ravings at http://richrumple.blogspot.com/.