In a few weeks my daughter will be 36 years old, for those
of you keeping score that officially makes me an old bastard. I don’t remember becoming an old guy, I don’t
really feel like an old guy (this week) but the evidence is starting to stack
up that I am evolving in that direction.
I remember every detail of the night she was born very
clearly. I can still see her little face and the ten tiny fingers that I
dutifully counted; she was perfect and it doesn’t seem possible that more than
three decades have passed since then.
Let’s examine the evidence; on the night she was born Jimmy
Carter was president, gas cost under a dollar a gallon and I called the family
to announce her arrival from a wall mounted phone with one of those long cords
that was perpetually twisted. OK, maybe it has been a while; I could be getting
a bit older.
I’m not a detective but I’ve watched enough cop shows on TV
to know that a single piece of evidence doesn’t make a case so before I buy a
rocking chair I’m going to need more proof. I still feel like a clueless kid
and I can get plenty of testimony that I still act like one so there’s pretty
solid evidence that I’ve never grown up … but am I growing old?
I’m a realist, I understand that years have passed but how
do you really know that you’re reaching the out limits of middle age? Is there
an official “geezer” threshold you pass? What are the signs that you’re getting
old?
As we approach the end of 2014 I’ve got to believe that
anyone born during the Eisenhower administration should at least consider the
possibility that you might be getting a little long in the tooth. In fact, if
you’ve ever used the expression “getting a little long in the tooth” you’re
probably getting old.
If you walk into a room and forget why you’re there, it
might be time to get that early dinner reservation. If you walk into a room and
forget why you’re there more than twice a week, go ahead and buy some
suspenders.
You may well be an
old guy if you make the “old guy noise” every time you stand or sit; you know
the noise I’m talking about … you heard your grandpa make it, then you probably
heard your dad make it and now you’re making it. If the sound of your bones
cracking is louder than your “old guy noise” go ahead and tune in the weather
channel.
Anyone who ever climbed up on the roof of their house and
turned the TV antenna as your dad yelled, “Turn it left … no back … wait, too
far!” may be starting that senior slide. If you even know what a TV antenna is
it probably isn’t too soon to join AARP.
Folks who use the word “folks” are either senior citizens or
politicians; I think I’d rather be old.
Anyone who had a grandchild before they had a cell phone is
probably approaching the geezer zone.
If you ever watched Heckle and Jeckle, Mighty Mouse or
Popeye on a black and white TV chances are you can order off the senior menu.
All of us who honestly believed polyester and disco were
signs of the apocalypse should be studying our Medicare options. For the record
I still have a “Death Before Disco” T-shirt … but I can’t remember where I put
it. That can’t be a good sign.
If you ever went to the school cafeteria to watch a Gemini
or Apollo “blast-off” or a World Series game on a black and white TV someone
has probably already called you “gramps.” Those of you who listened to the
World Series on a radio at school, go ahead and buy that condo in Boca Raton.
These are all pretty good indicators of aging and I admit
that almost all of them apply to me; OK … all of the apply to me. That doesn’t
mean I’m old it just means that I’m in the neighborhood and I’m all right with
that because it’s not the number of years in your life that matters, it’s the
life in those years.
I think I still have a T-shirt that says that too … if I could just find it.
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