The sound of strident

It only took me 66 years, but I'm now in the best shape of my life. By the way, the illustration above is not  me. Nor is it remotely accurate. You can fill in the blanks.

And while I'm now the fittest I've ever been, I'm also the loudest I've ever been. 

This was pointed out to me by my very spry and unfiltered daughter last week whilst watching Jeopardy.

"Damn, Dad you're so loud."

"What? Sorry. What? Still kicking myself over that Double Jeopardy and What is The Verrazano Bridge?"

"No, you're loud. You make noises every time you move."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm gonna have another glass of that red wine from Sonoma, you want some? uffffff."

"See, you did it again." she said, correctly.

Now that it was pointed out to me, I can't stop hearing myself. 

I've become a walking, talking, grunting machine. Some people have tinnitus, a non stop ringing in the ears. I have the endless groans of an old man -- albeit a physically fit one -- following me everywhere I go.

Why do they have to put my favorite brand of sun dried tomatoes on the top shelf?

Unnnnnggg

Why are duvet covers so damn complicated and unwieldy?

Grrrrrrrrrr

Is it me or my Audi getting harder and harder to get in to? And out of?

Ahhhhhhh

I'm well aware of the fact that I'm treading over well-worn territory. Weeks ago, Ms. Muse and I went to see Jon Stewart at the Greek where he did a masterful riff on getting old. 

"You've heard the saying about African Americans never aging, 'Black don't crack.' Well that doesn't apply to Jews, we age like a week old avocado."

Nevertheless the noise phenomena intrigues me. I'd like it to stop, but it probably won't. At least until I go completely silent. Doh.

I could start stretching and doing yoga, but my endo/mesomorphic body doesn't yield like others. Think of trying to bend a football. Not a Tom Brady under inflated one.

So I've resigned myself to my own involuntary cacophony of unwanted sound.

Maybe I can make myself useful and come up with some new Onomatopoeia for the sounds an old man, or an old woman, emits. Because as the chart below indicates, similar to the chart above, there's some glaring vacancies.

Ufffff.