SH is all midlife crisis-y because 1. he is in midlife and his midlife comes bearing crisis and 2. he is confronting his mortality, which I guess is really the definition of midlife crisis: the realization that you will die and that you are not getting younger and paths that were open to you when you were 20 are no longer open - that is, you are probably not going to become a major-league baseball player at the age of 50 and you are not going to start a new career in physics and earn a Nobel prize and you are not going to take the world by storm.
He is really confronting his mortality and his body being - normal. He grayed very young, but has always had better than 20/20 vision and he went 20 years without visiting a dentist and the hygienist didn't even notice* and he has not had aches and pains, mostly because he is lucky but also because he has not been a big exerciser.
The issue that is driving him crazy? (Other than not having a major impact on political policy)?
He has had to get reading glasses.
For the past year, I have seen him do the tell-tale extending of the arm so he can read what is in his hand.
That is actually one of the few age-related ailments I do not have. Perhaps my cousin Becky the optometrist can chime in here, but if you are already nearsighted, maybe the going farsighted has to cancel out some of the nearsighted before it has an impact. All I know is that I don't need reading glasses for distance correction. I need them because I have astigmatism, but I can see things up close. At least, I can see them better than SH can.
For a year, he has been grumbling about not being able to see but has also been unwilling to do anything about it. I have suggested he go see our very cute young woman optometrist who in her early 30s, already runs her own business, which I find really impressive.
But he doesn't want to do that.
But he did.
And she laughed and told him he needed readers.
But he wouldn't get them from her.
So I said to just go to Walgreen's and try them on until he found something that worked.
But he didn't want to do that, either.
And then, last week, when he stopped at Costco and bought a gallon of liquid soap and four bottles of toilet bowl cleaner, he also picked up a three-pack of readers.
And he has been using them.
And it is making him crazy.
But he is still not desperate enough to take them out with him. So in restaurants, he is holding the menu out as far as he can and then trying to shine the light from his phone on it.
I am glad he is not taking them with him when we go out because you know he is going to want to put them in my purse. Maybe I should just get him one of those chains that go around the neck?
(He is still a hottie to me, readers or no.)
* Whereas I, who did not have dental insurance when I was in grad school, still went to the dentist for cleanings and checkups and just wrote a check because I treasure my teeth, who, on the Bolivian altiplano, when I was taking the overnight bus from Cochabamba to La Paz, used my precious bottled water to brush my teeth and who flossed in front of the very curious Aymara women who were wondering what this white chick was doing, who has flossed every single day for the past 25 years, have had a tooth literally (and I mean that literally) break apart in my mouth and fall out. I have had to have a tooth pulled and replaced. I have had, in the past year, five gum grafts (because of job changes and insurance timing, I was able to get that many done in a 12-month period), and will have two more this year, and only two this year, because that's all I will be able to fit into the insurance. I have had a root canal (which actually, is not as bad as they say - really! I have had headaches that hurt worse than a root canal - it's more uncomfortable than anything else).
Anyhow, my point is, I have always been super conscientious about my teeth and they have done nothing but betray me at every turn, whereas SH, who has completely ignored his dental health for almost his entire adult life, has teeth 40 times nicer looking than mine.
It is not fair.