The 50 Plus Male

A couple of years ago, my wife Nita got smacked with the realization she was beginning to go through “the change,” i.e. menopause.  God bless her, she’s been riding out this storm with the grit and grace of an America’s Cup skipper. Some days are worse than others, but the mood swings have only been semi-alarming  rather than outright menacing…think of  the difference between sitting on a merry go-round horse versus riding a roller coaster…it may be an up-and-down journey, but at least there aren’t any wild plunges and turns.

As far as the swings  in Nita’s body temperature (which generally occur at bedtime), well, let me describe this from the male viewpoint by quoting one of my best friends: “Fan off/fan on; windows up/windows down; blanket off/ blanket on.”  Hey, I’m, not complaining –these temperature fluctuations can be hellish to constantly bear. Nita and I have come to naming these sudden strikes as “surges,” and if a surge has her on the ascending phase of the peak (guys, that means the mercury is rising), I have quickly learned this isn’t the time to get cuddly or even think of gliding into a “spoon” position—better to remember the old driving axiom of remaining one car-length behind for every ten miles/hour of speed.

(Talk about surges, wait until she reads these introductory paragraphs!)

This got me to thinking about changes men experience beginning in their fifties, kind of a “male  menopause” if you’ll allow me some wiggle room here. It’s every bit as personal a journey on our side of the ledger, and as I’ve taken some “not insignificant” liberties with my wife’s travails, it’s only right to divulge my mea culpa…

1. My nose hairs and ear hairs need to be cut more often than the scarcity remaining on my head.

2. I remember  celebrating with my friends at their kids’ communions and bar/bat mitzvahs…they’ve grown too quickly and are getting married now.

3. Receiving a low PSA score from my annual testing is cause for elation.

4. A Frank Sinatra or Dean Martin song plays on the radio, and I no longer change the station.

5. I think of the joy felt when I became an uncle for the first time; now my nieces are driving.

6. I still possess some level of athletic ability, but I’ve come to grips with the fact I’ll never be on a box of Wheaties.

7. With all of the wondrous fiber benefits, I can’t understand why I waited until turning 56 to begin taking Metamucil…gee, maybe it’s not just for “old” people.

Guys, for us “the change” is both a ride taken in a supportive role with our wives, as well as a solo  journey. Don’t fight the inevitable—it’s best to adhere to the great Gospel-oriented song by Curtis Mayfield and The Impressions, “People Get Ready.” It may have been written by Mayfield  to offer a spiritual message of redemption and forgiveness, but the opening lines echo my thoughts:

“People get ready, there’s a train a-comin’                                                                                  You don’t need no baggage, you just get on board”

(Note: Nita still hasn’t come home and read the first two paragraphs—I’m still among the living.)

-Neal  

My wife, Nita, is often the recipient of a somewhat “left-handed” compliment from me. I throw it out  there whenever she asks a question that almost causes whiplash as I quickly turn my head towards her silently wondering “where did that thought come from?” Over the years I’ve come to accept these outlier queries as a by-product of Nita’s fertile creativity. She provides the right-brain qualities (intuitive, random thinking) of our union  while I  counterbalance with the left-brain (rational, analytical) component.

As a member of the boomer-generation, I like to think experience and wisdom ensure the capacity to adequately answer  anything asked by my wife. Sometimes, however, these surprise questions from Nita have a hidden aspect to them…they’re (unwittingly?) dropped as potential landmines if I don’t watch my step in how I address them.

I’m not alone in tip-toeing around these not-so-innocuous lobs from my wife; I’m willing to bet almost 100% of us 50 plus males continually find ourselves attempting to politely dodge any kind of consternation when these types of questions are asked by our wives. These instances call for aplomb and quick analysis, not paralysis.

There are obvious examples of these bombshell questions from our wives; one of the most common being “Honey, is it OK if my mother comes live with us?” This one is so potentially “deadly” that it warrants a blog post unto itself, so let’s temporarily shun it aside (whew!). We’ll stick with two that are a bit less volatile to deal with.

First up is the inevitable worry expressed by so many wives when modeling a newly purchased outfit for their husbands: “Does this make me look fat?” When I first got married and Nita asked me this, I immediately got that “deer-in-a-headlight” look in my eyes and stuttered “Ugh, ugh no honey.” Needless to say, that reply provided zero support and I received a raised eyebrow look from Nita that was countering with “What exactly are you saying dear?”  I had inadvertently stepped on the landmine and immediately knew that having sex that night was totally out of any realm of possibility.

Nowadays, I calmly, coolly answer “it fits you just right, like it was made for you.” Momma didn’t raise no dummy guys, I’ve learned my lesson! This is not to say I don’t try to be honest with Nita; if I don’t find an outfit particularly appealing, it’s now broached with an “I like it but don’t love it” comment. Look-up the word “delicacy” guys, you’ll find it under “D” in the dictionary…

The second example of questions from Nita that signal “danger Will Robinson!, danger Will Robinson!” arises when she asks me anything that starts with “Honey, I was thinking, how would you feel if (fill-in the blank)?” I immediately know that any answer to these questions is going to cost serious money. More often than not, these questions are about home remodeling, such as “how would you feel if we knocked-out this wall and replace it with custom built-in storage, a flat-screen TV, new lighting, and…(keep adding-up the $$$). In this case, wisdom has taught me to reply with “Hon, I never would have thought of that; it’s a great idea and we’ll definitely have to put it on our list once we can afford to do it.” At this point guys, I trust you still have that dictionary opened to “D.”

I have to give kudos to my wife; she constantly amazes me with her imaginative thinking, even with the inevitable possibility of brandishing an axe to our bank account. As for that “left-handed” compliment I mentioned at the beginning of this post…it’s short, sweet, and simple: “Honey, it never gets boring!”

-Neal

What’s the first memory you have of last year’s Baseball All-Star game? Can you remember who won or the final score (hint: American League, 4-3)? Many people, myself included, primarily remember that broadcast for the criticism leveled at President Obama, who threw out the first pitch, for his “unfashionable” choice of jeans. So-called arbiters of fashion called them “dad jeans,” while others designated them as “mom jeans.”

President Obama, to his credit, merely shrugged his shoulders and stated that comfort rules fashion in his jean selection. I’m about to buy two new pairs of everyday jeans to replace the two pairs that have served me so well the past couple of years…that’s everyday jeans as in my “non-work uniform/working around the house” jeans, not dress jeans which I typically save for casual evening-out wear on the weekends. This upcoming trip to the store is what has me thinking about the President’s recent dilemma.

For years, my everyday jeans have been Levi’s 550’s–basic sit-at-the-waist/relaxed-fit in the seat and thigh/tapers below the knee jeans. I buy them because:

a. they’re comfortable

b. they’re comfortable

c. they’re comfortable and I’ve always thought they fit me OK

d. they’re comfortable and reasonably-priced and I can readily purchase them on sale at various department stores

e. I’m not a hip-hop kind of guy; I don’t wear my jeans around my knees

Upon hearing that I was ready to replace my old everyday jeans (I donate the used jeans to Purple Heart), my wife immediately lectured (chided?) me because “I have no ass,” and she’s never liked the 550’s. Mind you, this is not just a newsflash for me; I’m gleaning this information for the first time in almost twenty-two years of marriage!

If you’ve shopped for jeans lately, you’ve found a dizzying array of choices: straight-fit, relaxed-fit, loose-fit in ten different finishes…each with an accompanying model number. Quite frankly, given we just want to purchase knocking-around jeans, it’s waaay (sic) too much for us 50 plus males to absorb. I’m with the President; if they’re comfortable and look OK, along with knowing they’re going to get “beat-up’ over time doing man-stuff around the home…boom!…that’s what I’m buying. Sorry honey, the flat-ass look is still in.

_Neal

For many of today’s 50 plus year old males, fifty is regarded as “the new forty.” For the rest of us, fifty is fifty–plain and simple.  There are, however, decidedly different personal viewpoints that arise once we gentlemen hit the “big 5-0.” The most telling sign that our perspectives change is when a friend injects the comment “That’s not the way we used to think about it” during a conversation.

So, in deference to the inevitable, I present you with a list of some of the more poignant moments that capture these contradictions—please read in an across direction:

When you were younger than 50 years old…         Now that you’re 50+ years old…

“Nuff said…”

-Neal

Departing the “Single/Never Married” demographic group and entering the “Married” category didn’t occur for me until I was one month shy of my 36th birthday. This tidbit holds importance for two reasons: I dated for 18 years before meeting my wife, and I can honestly say I was ready to marry when the big day arrived. There’s a somewhat puzzling dynamic present within these two stages of my life, and I wonder how many 50 plus males join me in laying claim to this incongruity…during my dating years, I would often cook dinner at home for my “female companions,” while my married years have produced a notable dearth of kitchen activity on my part.

Inviting a woman home for dinner only occurred after we had enjoyed a few “standard” dates (going-out for dinners, drinks, movies, and shows) and reached a level of comfort and trust with  one another. I had taken Chinese cooking lessons in the evening at a township-sponsored course for adults for this very purpose. Wok cooking was relatively simple yet appeared fairly impressive; as long as I stuck to two or three tried-and-true recipes, I was master of my domain. Ethnic-style cooking only added to the aura of the evening.

A “time-out” is called for here; if you think I was cooking just to highlight my creative side, you’d be mistaken. If you think the effort was solely meant to underscore my growing feelings for the lady, you’d be half-right. I was also hoping the effort of preparing an exotic home-cooked meal presented under candlelight ignited the ultimate aphrodisiac…in other words, ”exotica for erotica.” Hey, if any of you guys are shaking your heads about now, you can quit kidding yourselves; admit it, many of you have tried the same…but as long as you remained a gentleman throughout the evening, couching this ulterior motive in thought only was basically harmless.

Flash forward through the past twenty-one years and you can count on two hands how many dinners I’ve prepared for my wife. I’m not even daring to count preparing simple pasta meals or being the self-proclaimed BBQ grill-master of the household; I’m referring to preparing a full-blown dinner from scratch. I do my share of the dishes and other clean-up chores, but for some reason, I have ceased to don the apron. I have a good friend named Frank, deservedly proud of his Italian heritage, who is a whiz at exhibiting a passion for cooking that would make his kinfolk proud. A sit-down at one of his (and wife Ina’s) dinners is akin to passing through the gates of Italian food heaven. My only problem is that my dessert many times consists of guilt topped with a layer of shame from a lack of similar effort on my part at home.

Don’t kid yourselves guys; take-out doesn’t count either in lessening the cooking load for your better half. At most, it grants you a day off from addressing the issue. But you’ll please excuse me if I don’t think about that now, I have to run out and pick-up the Chinese for dinner…

-Neal           

My wife Nita and I recently celebrated our 21st wedding anniversary.  This got me to thinking about the concept of fidelity and staying “true” to your woman.  I can honestly say I have never come close to straying. I am totally in love with Neets (my nickname for Nita)  but that doesn’t mean I don’t see any number of women on a given day that I find attractive…I am a red-blooded male for goodness sakes!

While I generally regard myself as a mature and courteous guy, I still, on many occasions, find myself rating women on their looks using the proverbial 1-10 scale…the same scale we all used in our (hopefully) wild and crazy single years when describing the women we were dating to our male friends.  Sometimes, however, instead of assigning a 1-10 rating to an attractive woman, I’ll make a simple mental note that “boy, she’d make it onto my top ten list.”

I know what you’re thinking…maybe I’m not as “true” as I’d have myself believe.  That simply isn’t the case; in fact I’d be more worried if I wasn’t still participating in the somewhat adolescent practice of rating a woman’s looks.  As the saying goes (and Neets agrees), “just because you’re on a diet doesn’t mean you can’t look at the menu.”

In addition to all of this, we are constantly besieged with various top ten lists via the media regarding celebrities (both male and female, but as a straight man, I’m focusing solely on the female side) based on their looks; for example, “the ten best female beach bodies,” “the ten best-looking women over forty years of age,” and so on.  Let’s face it guys, most of us fantasize when we see these lists.  I find myself thinking, “now there’s a woman I would like to have known in my single days.”  So I decided to jot down my current top-ten list of celebrities who can make me stop in my tracks…uh Neets honey, remember I’m only looking at the menu…

With a nod to The Late Show with David Letterman, here’s today’s top ten:

(honorable mentions who just missed the cut:  Marisa Miller, Jeri Ryan)

10.  Elle Macpherson

9.  Rosario Dawson

8.  Halle Berry

7.  Monica Bellucci

6.  Catherine Bell

5.  Diane Lane

4.  Salma Hayek

(author’s note:  for the top three choices on this list, I present women you may regard as past their heyday, but not only are they still damn attractive, they are my first three entries into Neal’s personal all-time Hall of Fame)

3.  Raquel Welch

2.  Ann-Margret

1.  Sophia Loren

There you have it, women of all sizes, shapes, color and ethnicity; all extremely talented in their field.  Hey, I’m not just a one-note kind of guy!  Some of the names, notably my Hall of Fame entries, are mainly thought of by us 50 plus males, but that’s OK; we know what the rest of you guys are missing.

-Neal