Well I done got old[er]

Here's a sign that I done got old: the nice couple who recently moved in next door call me "Mr. Ward." I mean just now, I'm taking out the garbage, they're sitting on the front porch drinking white wine, and they say, "Hello, Mr. Ward." At this rate, my favorite medicine will soon be this instead of this. And I'll need one of these too. Well, at least there's one bit of fun I won't outgrow (see, e.g., this guy).

Well I done got old

It had been a few weeks since I hit the weights. So yesterday morning I decided to ease back into the weight-training routine with a set of seven exercises using a 40-lb. barbell, which is practically nothing. Maybe 10 to 12 reps of each exercise. The whole routine took something like 15 minutes.

Overnight, rigor mortis set in. Today I've been walking around like the 110-year-old man. I feel like I need to sing that Junior Kimbrough song: "Well I done got old / Can't do the things I used to do / 'Cause I'm an old man."