Middle age is when you’re sitting at home on a Saturday night and the telephone rings and you hope it isn’t for you.
Ogden Nash
So I’m now receiving direct mail for hearing aids. If there is in fact a type of direct mail I might want, this isn’t it. I like to think I’m too young to be on a target list for people possibly in need of a “FREE hearing evaluation,” and yet on one I must be. And now I’m forced to face a tough question: how do they know! I’m no spring wandering chicken anymore, I’m afraid. My hearing is in fact getting worse, I have terrible night vision, and I’m balding. No, let me rephrase. I’m going bald. That’s an inconvenient fact I can no longer deny… Which brings me up another thing. I’ve been told by many women that they think bald men are sexy. I have no reason to believe this sentiment isn’t true and held by a fair number of the fairer sex. What I struggle to believe is that they think “balding” men are sexy. It’s an important distinction, I think. I mean, what exactly is attractive about a bald spot?
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So I’m now receiving direct mail for hearing aids. If there is in fact a type of direct mail I might want, this isn’t it. I like to think I’m too young to be on a target list for people possibly in need of a “FREE hearing evaluation,” and yet on one I must be. And now I’m forced to face a tough question: how do they know!

I’m no spring wandering chicken anymore, I’m afraid. My hearing is in fact getting worse, I have terrible night vision, and I’m balding. No, let me rephrase. I’m going bald. That’s an inconvenient fact I can no longer deny…

Which brings me up another thing. I’ve been told by many women that they think bald men are sexy. I have no reason to believe this sentiment isn’t true and held by a fair number of the fairer sex. What I struggle to believe is that they think “balding” men are sexy. It’s an important distinction, I think. I mean, what exactly is attractive about a bald spot?

I never thought much about middle age until I did the math. After recently celebrating my 35th birthday it’s hard to deny that if I haven’t eclipsed middle age, I am at the very least rapidly approaching it. And I have to acknowledge, given the way I’ve lived my life until this point, reaching even 70 is no sure thing.

So it seems part of being The Wandering Chicken is dealing with middle age and all that comes with it, whatever that might be. (Starting a blog appears to be an early symptom). If I should stumble into cliche and indulge in the typical crisis, I’m sorry, and hope you at least enjoy reading about it.