By Raymond “Buzz” Harper
Aging is a strange little trick the universe plays on us. One day you’re sleeping like a baby, waking up bright-eyed and dewy-skinned. The next, you sprain something putting on socks and your back makes noises like a microwave popcorn bag. It’s nature’s way of saying, “Surprise! You’re now creaky and mysterious.” But before you start investing in orthopedic flip-flops and buying bananas for their fiber instead of their flavor, let’s talk about the secret weapon that makes this whole wild ride not just tolerable—but downright funny.
Humor. It’s not just a coping mechanism; it’s the duct tape holding the whole operation together.
Let’s be honest: aging comes with a parade of indignities that nobody warned us about. Yes, we expected to get a little gray around the edges. We might’ve even braced for a little sagging here or there. But did anyone mention the rogue eyebrow hair that’s now long enough to braid? Or the fact that your knees audibly negotiate before standing up? And let’s not even start on the reading glasses situation. Every room now has at least three pairs, none of which are ever where you actually need them.
You don’t find humor in these moments—you need it. Otherwise, you’re just sitting in a waiting room holding a Ziploc full of pills, wondering if your doctor’s old enough to drive.
Science backs up the value of a good chuckle. According to the Mayo Clinic, laughter stimulates your organs, improves your immune system, relieves pain, and increases personal satisfaction. So essentially, it’s nature’s multivitamin—minus the fish oil aftertaste. Also, it’s free. Try saying that about hearing aids or progressive lenses.
There’s something beautifully rebellious about laughing in the face of aging. It’s like flipping off the Grim Reaper with jazz hands. Because while your body may be muttering things like “we don’t bend that way anymore,” your humor gets sharper, bolder, and—let’s admit it—weirder. Suddenly, it’s completely normal to spend 20 minutes talking with friends about the metaphysical horror of Tupperware lids. (“Why do they multiply? Where is the lid for this one? Did it run off with my youth?”)
The joy of growing older is that you finally get the full absurdity of life. You start noticing things younger folks miss, like the fact that every new medical procedure sounds like the name of a 1970s rock band. (“What did the doctor say?” “Oh, just a mild case of Frozen Shoulder. Opening for Steely Dan this weekend.”)
You also develop a curious relationship with technology, which is the source of at least half your daily laughs. There’s nothing like trying to update your phone and accidentally turning on voice dictation while muttering curse words under your breath. And the moment you finally master your smart TV remote, the manufacturer releases a new version with fewer buttons and more confusion. You don’t just laugh at technology—you laugh to keep from hurling it into the fireplace.
And then there’s fashion. Remember when clothing was an exciting form of self-expression? Now, if it has an elastic waistband and doesn’t itch, it’s couture. Forget heels and skinny jeans—give us memory foam shoes and pants that forgive. The pinnacle of style is now the holy trifecta: stretch, softness, and the ability to get them off quickly in case of a bathroom emergency.
Speaking of which, bathrooms now get a lot more airtime in your conversations. There’s a kind of camaraderie in sharing the truth that your bladder now keeps a more demanding schedule than your toddler grandchild ever did. And no one tells you that aging means you can pull a muscle sneezing. That’s not even fair. That’s not even a sport.
But laughing about these things doesn’t diminish them—it takes their power away. It turns them from medical complaints into party anecdotes. “I fell off the curb the other day. Not because I was drunk. Because I forgot how curbs work.” That’s funny. That’s human. That’s healing.
The real magic of humor, though, is what it does for relationships. The shared laughter with friends over lunch when someone forgets what story they were telling mid-sentence. The knowing chuckle when someone walks into the room and announces, “I don’t remember why I came in here, but I’m committing to the experience.” Humor connects us, reminds us we’re not alone, and makes even the weirdest symptoms feel a little less scary.
You begin to develop a healthy irreverence. You realize the world is full of too many serious people and not enough people who will put googly eyes on their vitamins just to make the mornings more entertaining. And while some might be chasing youth through expensive serums and kale smoothies, the rest of us are putting bubble wrap on our garden kneelers and calling it “joint protection with flair.”
Some of the funniest people you’ll ever meet are the ones who’ve been around long enough to know better. They’ve survived decades of hairstyles, heartbreaks, questionable casseroles, and the agony of dial-up internet. They’ve had kids, or raised plants, or both, and lived to laugh about it. They’ve learned that if you don’t find humor in a lost car key or a misplaced bra (which was eventually discovered in the freezer), you’re going to spend way too much time frowning—and nobody looks good with frown lines.
The truth is, aging can be hilarious if you let it. There’s a moment of pure comedy when you put your car keys in the fridge, your sandwich in your purse, and your glasses on top of your head (while asking your spouse where your glasses are). And while yes, some days are harder than others, the moments where you can step back and laugh—those are the moments that keep you going.
So maybe we don’t bounce back as quickly, maybe we forget why we walked into a room, maybe we now describe the weather based on what body part hurts. But we also laugh harder, longer, and with deeper appreciation than ever before.
Let’s face it: if life is a sitcom, we’ve made it to the good seasons. The characters are well-developed, the plot twists are more dramatic, and the jokes? Chef’s kiss.
And if you’re still worried about aging, just remember this: every laugh line is a souvenir from a moment that made you giggle until you snorted. Every gray hair is a tiny lightning bolt of wisdom. And every joke you tell is proof that time may be marching on—but you’ve still got the best punchlines.
Now go find your glasses. They’re probably in the laundry basket again.
