Sense & Sensibility: When being old-fashioned is the one fashion it’s always been

It’s a little disconcerting. It’s rather unbecoming really. In fact, I’m tempted to venture & make claim it all to be a very bewildering existence.

The very idea that I can sit myself down, and watch the same movie no less than 30 times (might I even dare say more). I find myself mouthing lines, quipping quotes, and feeling genuinely so at every plot turn & little quaint habits of the old English ways ever so close-to-heart.

Right on. I just sat thru it once again. And as I watched Colonel Christopher Brandon (Alan Rickman, aka Professor Severus Snape) quietly going about his way, ever faithfully, ever patiently caring for Marianne Dashwood (Kate Winslet) I thought to myself ‘who does this anymore?’. When was the last time someone opened a door for me? (when has it even?!) Who would slave laboriously for the happiness of someone else while keeping his efforts quiet? With all the modern trappings for communication, when has anyone said anything nice to you without you harbouring an equally disingenuous reply?

I’m old-fashioned. Some say old-school. You know the kind. I open doors for women, because all women deserve to be treated like ladies. And in this day and age, more women need to treated like ladies because they need to be reminded they are such. And I don’t mean this in a flattering way. Okay, back to those doors. I open them for my friends when I am able to and I open them for even strangers, because it is the decent thing to do. So yes, I am old-fashioned. In my perfect world, the husband is the breadwinner. The provider, and in many ways, the protector, of his household. Not one to talk a lot, he hands over his life to his spouse; money, savings, passwords, dirty laundry et al. In the house he should help with the chores and put those muscles to good use. In the bedroom …. now that should be on another posting. In the bedroom, I’m anything but old-fashioned.

Oh, I have not the understanding of this matter. : I do not know.

Earning a license to grow old

I finally got myself back to the gym today. After spending months away from it I have to admit it was quite a spectacle. Not of myself, but of the other regulars that were there.
All pumped up, veins popping, sweat pouring, most of them have magically ballooned to gargantuan proportions. Ah …. it must be for Taipei Pride. There was this big chap sitting across me, nodding to me in acknowledgement as he sat down to bench 390lbs. Yes, 390 pounds! Heaving, grunting, pushing, he eked out 6 reps and smiled to himself. Me? I was amazed.

No I was not amazed; it was my turn. ‘Aight’, I thought …. here goes … 160lbs!!! Yeah!!!

Boy that was difficult. My strength had left me. In another 30 minutes I was done. I managed to somewhat wake up my ‘sisters’ and did some abdominal work. All done! Phew… I still perspired tons.

Been looking through a lot of photos (of myself), searching for something decent to send to someone. I honestly think, I look better now. Shameless yes, honesty; shamelessly a definite yes. For someone going on 39 and having burnt off a good 6 kilograms barely a month ago from a week of fever: DAMN! I looked good! I’ve been taking things for granted actually. I hardly ever wash my face. I sweat tons a day, so i shower a lot, have dry skin but too lazy to moisturise. I probably spend more time looking in the mirror looking at my new piercing than looking at my face. As of today, I decided I should put more effort into routinely cleaning my face and should shower for more than 2 minutes each time (yup… a shower for me is like … a minute? I’m a dirty man I admit).

So here I am, nearly all 4 decades worth. Rambling as usual, and my iTunes happens to be playing ‘Subaru’ by Shinji Tanimura. What a coincidence. I am so insignificant, nothing compared to the wonderful cosmos, yet I try to live my life and burn as bright as the stars. No one notices. It doesn’t matter. I’m getting old, oh yes. Go ahead, burn all I want, there isn’t much left. And as Martha Stewart famously claims, “It’s a good thing”!