AFI

Photo by Stéphane Delval on Unsplash

AFI - Not to be confused with  the Arc-Fault Circuit Breaker

We’ve all seen the old man sitting in the restaurant with food dribbling down the front of his shirt as he slops up some pasta or soup. He seems oblivious to what is happening. Or, another old man on a chilly day sitting there with a wet drop of snot hanging off the end of his nose and again, seemingly unaware it’s there. Fear not, they (we) know what’s happening, we are merely applying the principle of AFI , also known as “Aw, Fuck It!”

​This is a phase of aging that happens with varying degrees of intensity and at different ages; it’s a personal thing. It can come on in your 60s or hang back until your 70s or later. But it will happen. There will come a point where you look at something that’s out of place, or you know you just dropped catsup from a hotdog on the front of your shirt. You don’t have to look down, you know what happened. For a brief moment, you think about grabbing a napkin, dipping it in some water and cleaning yourself up, but then you say . . . Aw Fuck It!

You been around the block a few times. You've seen just about all there is to see in life and you know that you are treading on the thin ice of old age. All one has to do is spend time looking at the obituaries to realize you are walking through a mine field that could take you out at any time, so AFI; what the hell is anyone going to do to you?

It’s a rather liberating feeling when you get to that point. There is no young woman (in my case) that is going to be attracted to you unless your wealth is greater than your wrinkles; they all see their grandfather in your kindly old wrinkled face. You don’t have any job interviews to go to or anyone you’re trying to impress with your appearance. You are free to run (metaphor) through the rest of your life naked if you want. You really don’t much give a fuck.

All those pestering little things that used to bug the shit out of you when youn were young? They don’t matter any more. The concerns that kept you awake at night and sending you off to work with four-hours of sleep have evaporated into thin air. You see the fuzz growing out of your ears and nose and think ‘I should trim that’ but then AFI kicks in - there’s always tomorrow, maybe, and if not, who cares if I look like a Chia Pe when they slide me into the oven?

I imagine that women experience something similar except society has brainwashed them into believing they can’t leave the house without ‘putting on their face’ and donning something fashionable. That, and because they are wired to look after children and husbands, they are a little more particular about the details of life, but I think they get there eventually. I've seen some clown-like women in both dress and makeup in my life. We men just get their sooner, sometimes much, much sooner.

So, just know that as you glide down the path of life that you will almost certainly realize one day that most of your cares have dissolved into the ether and what matters is enjoying the moment, hopefully not your last one, and when confronted with a problem you’ll be overwhelmed with a feeling of AFI. So let the food fall, let the house become a little messy, fart if you need to and vacuum the car tomorrow.

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