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Mondays With Mullane ep23 - Another Christmas and Old Age

As another Christmas approaches, I realise I'm older, closer to 80 than 70. This fact was brought home the other day when I attended my youngest daughter's University graduation. We arrived with a few thousand parents, friends, and their relatives.

WARNING: The Following Article is an Opinion Piece written by The Anonymous Author Mullane. This article respresents his views and not that of The Anonymous Publishing House. Free speech as well as freedom of expression and opinion are a fundimental and natural right for all. Censorship will only ever silence the truth and in the persuit of free speech there may be times where you read words objectionable to you and your beliefs. Either contest and debate the opinions expressed, or skip to the next article/video.

We might not agree with the words written below, but we will fight til our last breath for the authors rights to say them.

All these young, excited, bright-eyed graduates are about to leave the university for the real world. I was seated killing an hour before proceedings started sipping a coffee. A uniformed security guard approached me. I thought, what the fuck have I done parked in the wrong spot. He said, "Excuse me, sir, there will be a big rush to enter the auditorium. You go to the entrance ten minutes before I've arranged for you to go straight in—the advantages of advanced years.

This year, I had to pass a medical to retain my driver's licence. After a not-so-thorough examination, I passed. The examiner was a woman almost my age; I charmed her. I thought I was a safer driver now than when I was younger. With the wonders of modern medicine, better hygiene and diet, humans live longer. When people make snide remarks regarding old age, I always respond, "Old age is better than the alternative. I often experience the different attitudes displayed towards mature drivers: I get honked for being slow and called a SOC 'Silly Old C..t.'

I've all the geriatric conditions plus a few added. Each morning, I pop pills like a junkie getting their first hit for the day. Recently, I was fitted for the free government hearing aid, being profoundly deaf in one ear. I told the Indian audiologist I couldn't tell any difference; it's not working. Gupta smiled; he said, "It works like this. People observe you wearing a hearing aid and speak loudly. He then tried to sell me a $6000,00 super deluxe hearing aid.

I still enjoy life, the simple things: coffee, breakfast, watching the news—a bit of gardening. Dinner: a glass or two or three of wine. Sex is now optional. My wife opts not to participate. We also have separate bedrooms. I snore, and my frequent trips to have a piss disturb her. My wife vacated the marital bed, once called the workbench, when menopause struck her night sweats. That was five fucking years ago. However, I enjoy sleeping solo, and I don't have to turn around to fart.

One activity I derive pleasure from is grocery shopping. Lesurly strolling the aisles in air-conditioned comfort, seeking a bargain hand-picking fresh produce. Anticipating my daughter or wife's inevitable phone call, "While you're there, please get some whatever." My greatest joy is requesting someone in authority to open a cash register, exclaiming, "I don't do self-serve."

I've been married three times to incredibly different but wonderful women and married to my present wife for 29 years. We are still together through good and bad times, bickering sarcasm and insults taken to new heights. I've six children between three wives: four daughters, two sons and seven grandchildren, bringing the greatest pleasure, mainly when you hand them back.

I feel young and think young. I still perve on females with predatory sexual desires, the young ones in their 50s and 60s. I've carnal thoughts, often mentally undressing them. However, when I remember the body of a 50 60-year-old, I put their clothes back on mentally. My days as a Lothario chick magnet are over. Also no longer a high-flying captain of commerce. When I have a piss, I shake hands with the unemployed. And at my age, my acquaintance with my dick has become more frequent. I'm now fat, bald, ugly, and wrinkly. But you know what? I'm still here, still kicking and enjoying life.

I feel blessed to have experienced the trials and tribulations of life. Loving women, the birth of children, observing them grow, buying a home, I've purchased nine or ten, some modest, others multi-million dollar mansions. I've driven all makes of vehicles, from my first heap of shit to a Roller, Porsche, Mercedes, Lexus, and 17 new BMWs. I wore designer clothes and watches, and expensive jewellery. I've travelled the world. I've enjoyed the company and sexual escapades with beautiful women and some, yeah, well, "Should've gone to Spec savers." I've experienced elation at successful business ventures and debilitating depression at business failures. I've gone from the penthouse to the shithouse on more than one occasion.

Life is what you make. I now realise the pursuit of money, and when you acquire money, the adage, money doesn't buy happiness. As stated, I now enjoy the simple things. As Christmas approaches, I reflect on my relatives and friends who have departed this world.

The upside to old age is I'm more relaxed. Not worrying about business, court cases chasing debts or dodging debt collectors. Irate women's husbands or boyfriends, I'm genuinely content. My wife plays golf six days a week and bothers God on Sundays; it's so peaceful.

Do I have regrets? Yes, I should've known to shut up at times. I feel conscience-stricken regarding my treatment of some outstanding women. I regret having settled disputes physically and not in a conciliatory manner. I regret being a big spender and not a saver.

I now realise a Hyundai simultaneously gets from point A to point B as a Rolls Royce. A Citizen watch tells the same time as a Rolex, and the Ralph Lauren polo shirt is manufactured in the same factory as the $10 K/Mart polo.

So, in summary, enjoy life and be content; someone will always have more, and someone will have less. The two greatest gifts are your health, being loved by your spouse and children, and reciprocating their love. I reflect on my life, and sometimes I conclude Danny, you've been, at times, a very naughty boy.

I work on the adage, 'Only the good die young.' Therefore, I should receive my telegram from Charlie if he is still alive. Being a staunch Republican, I want the pleasure to tell him to stick it up his royal arse.

Christmas presents are superfluous and are soon discarded. Give the gift of love to your nearest and dearest. And have a good fucking drink. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to everyone.

Danny Mullane

Buy Danny's controversial memoir Car Dealers and Other (Honourable) Professions below.

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