32 Going on 65

My birthday's next week, on a full moon no less, but I feel like today's really the time-marches-on milestone. In abdicating their responsibility to ensure that I age with no diminishment of my near-superhuman physical and mental powers, my genes have endowed me with "cookie bite" hearing loss. This means that I can't very well hear sounds at high and low frequencies - like, say, women's voices. I will refrain from making any jokes about this situation vis a vis my wife, as any humorous possibilities or practical advantages have long since disappeared.

And but so, all of this necessitates compromising my striking good looks and burgeoning bank account by dropping a shit-ton of cash on two "hearing instruments" very much like these. Why all hearing aids look vaguely like infant mice, I don't know. It might just be me. On the other hand, the second man to walk on the moon wears them, so they must be good. On the other other hand, he lost his hearing from flying to the moon. On the other³ hand, the hearing aid manufacturer sponsors one of the strongest bike-racing teams in the world. The team is led by Floyd Landis, who can not only effortlessly stand at a 45-degree angle but is numbered among the favorites to win this year's Tour de France, the first in the post-Armstrong era.

Now, I have to go hone my repertoire of hearing-loss jokes and gags, as I have only 14 hours to go before I can no longer cup my hand to my ear and go, "Eh? What's that, sonny?"