7 Signs I’m Getting Old

Charting Course ^ | 12/12/14 | Steve Berman

[lifeofgrace]

I recently marked a particular anniversary of my birth.  I won’t say my age but it’s a prime number multiplied by ten, older than 30 and not yet 70.  I didn’t mark the day in any particular way.  Yeah there was a “happy birthday” from my wife and kids, but no huge celebration.   I didn’t want one.

Passing that milestone makes one somewhat introspective and brooding about the arc of one’s life.  I was just twenty, for God’s sake!  What happened to all those years?  I still feel like a big kid.  I still watch Looney Tunes (love Road Runner) with the kids.  I still love to play board games.  I like the same stuff I liked growing up.

Who am I kidding.  I’m getting older.  Not quite “old”.  Just older.  I’ll let you know when it turns into “old”.

Here’s seven signs I’ve unearthed like an archaeologist in search of ancient ruins.  They are the hieroglyphs of my life aging into the dustbin of history.  These are things I used to laugh at when old people did them, or I’d simply observe with amusement and horror how the geezers did things.  And here, I’ve dug them out of my own life to share with you.

I don’t celebrate my birthdays anymore

I have no desire to dwell on the fact that I’m one year further from the date of my entry into this world, and one day closer to my exit therefrom.  There is some truth to the old saw that “the years go by faster” when you get older.  I am fairly sure that time itself doesn’t change (although special relativity might kick in), but our perception engine samples less, like a movie skipping every third frame.

Whole reels tend to drop out and go missing.  Okay, younger people:  a “reel” is something they used to use to project movies when they used actual film.  Geez, am I really giving a lesson in film projector history?  What was I even talking about?  Right.  Missing chunks of life in my inner-movie-making gear.  It’s true.  I can go from 9am to noon without a single memorable moment and it’s like those three hours never happened.  By the end of the day, it’s like I lived three hours.  (Did we feed the dog?  What was for dinner?)  Then it’s time for bed, then the next day is a replay of the last one.

Whole weeks go by before I even realize that Monday is over.  I mean, dang, it’s Friday already?  It was just Sunday!  Really, it was.

I go into a room and forget why

I used to laugh at my parents doing this.  I’d count the number of times they went into the kitchen, got distracted, stood blank faced for a minute, then left, only to return thirty seconds later.  I would actively try to distract them to count how many trips they’d have to make to remember the original reason they went into the kitchen.

Yes, I was a little angel.

Now, I go into the kitchen, get distracted and forget what I went there for, while my kids look on in amusement.  The only positive to this is that I don’t bother counting how many trips I take, probably because I forget anyway.

I have to wear — gasp! — reading glasses

Sometimes.

Not often.

Not when anyone’s looking.

If I can get away with using 18-point fonts, I’ll do that too.  But man, the print on those drug bottles, and the nutrition information on food packages is so freaking small these days, it’s like you need a magnifying glass to read it.  Thank God I have my phone camera to zoom in on things.  Why don’t they print things bigger like they used to?

Or maybe my eyes aren’t 20/10 and 20/15 like they used to be.  I don’t get them checked because it scares me to know the actual numbers.  If I can’t read it, it’s probably not important anyway, right?

I take medicine and stuff

Used to be, I would never, ever take a pill, unless my head was about to split open or I just had surgery.  No pain pills for this hombre.  Prescriptions?  Ha, who needs them.  Those mama’s boys who have to take vitamins and antibiotics, what a bunch of wimps.  And what the heck is gout?  Sounds like something they got in the 1700’s from being on a wooden ship too long and eating maggots.

Now, I take seven pills every day.  Every.  Single.  Day.  Three of them are prescriptions (yes, one for gout, which I wouldn’t wish on the devil himself), and four of them are some kind of vitamins or supplements—with one big amber capsule full of fish oil that’s supposed to be good for my heart or something.  When I travel, I have to take a whole pharmacy with me.  Here’s my hombre card, I’m turning it in.  At least I still have my teeth.

I traded in my race car for a sedan

When I was young, I loved fast cars.  But I could never afford one (not a really fast one at least, which was in hindsight a blessing, since I wouldn’t have lived this long if I had).  Then I went through the thing they call a “midlife crisis” where I had both the money and the desire for a fast car.  The first one was a Mustang GT convertible, which converted money into speeding tickets.  I didn’t keep it long enough to bankrupt me but it helped me get into the SUV stage of life.

Then the need for speed hit again (somewhere in my 40’s) and I got a Subaru Impreza STI, which eats Mustang GT’s for lunch.  The hatchback version of this AWD ricochet rocket rally car is also stealthy enough that the po-po don’t look for it.  And it goes 90 miles an hour—on dirt (on pavement, the speedometer outpaced my courage tank and therefore I never got far into the triple-digits).  Well, I sold it for a Subaru Legacy.  The only similarity between the STI and the Legacy is the logo.  The rest screams “Buick” (but at least it’s still an AWD car).  Hey, it’s a lot cheaper on gas and tons more practical, and my wife can drive it too.

It was the sensible thing to do.

I’m just lying to myself here.  The truth is, I’m becoming a fogey.

I listen to classical music

This is a new one.  I mean new as in just in the past few days new.  I suddenly had this desire to listen to symphony music while driving my car.  To and from work, and around town, yep, I’m tuned to the Symphony Hall channel on SXM satellite.

I have no idea what’s playing:  Rachmaninov or Mozart or whoever, but the music is strangely soothing to my impatient bones when some old fart is driving 20 mph in front of me looking for their doctor’s office.  I remember my father always liking classical, symphony music.  He played violin (at the professional level) for years before I was born.  I play the radio, and that’s it.  Even my son can identify the instruments being played—there’s a violin, there’s a piano.  I’m about as musical as a rusty hinge.

But I know I’m aging well because I listen to classical music now.  One day I might even be distinguished enough not to burp in public, but that’s a stretch.

I never sleep in

I used to be able to sleep.  I mean sleep like a professional.  10am?  That’s nothing.  Noon?  Hit snooze.  Stay up all night?  No problem.

Now I wake up every two to three hours.  The clock reads 4:30am and I know it’s not long before I actually get out of bed.  Sleeping in is 7:30.  If I sleep past 8, I must be sick.  I’m not so ancient that I have to make multiple bathroom trips each night—not yet at least.  However I did find it’s true that young men and older men both pee the same each day, just that young men do it all at once, while older men spread it out all day.

As for staying up late, I don’t do too well past 11pm anymore.  Actually, 11pm is a time I rarely see since I’m generally sleeping by 10:30.  Getting older consumes a lot of energy, you know, and I get tired.  Reminds me of a Rolling Stones song:  it’s a drag (my little yellow pill isn’t Mother’s Little Helper, it’s a B12 supplement).

Still lot to look forward to

I know there are nuances to being old, especially when you hit the retirement age:  eating breakfast at McDonalds at 6am, lunch at 11am, and dinner at 4pm, then bed by 9 hasn’t happened to me yet.  I don’t wear my pants pulled up to my chest, mostly because I still have a tuchas.  I hear that it migrates when you get really old and moves into the abdomen to merge with your chest, which makes wearing pants that way perfectly sensible.

I am looking forward to aging well.  Like I said, I still have my teeth and I still have my hair.  My 95-year old father still has his hair too, and it’s not even white—it’s salt & pepper.  So I have good genes and can look forward to graciously descending into decrepitude well into my 90’s.

I asked my sons if they would take care of me and their mom when we got old, and they both hugged us and told us they would.  Maybe I’ll start celebrating my birthdays again, and my present will be reminding them of their promise.  I will really enjoy my retirement one day—and my wife and I will just show up at their house with a car full of our stuff, saying “we just need a place for a little while” as we move in.

We’ll enjoy their hospitality, not replace the toilet paper rolls, eat their fridge empty, and leave dirty laundry on the floor.  It’s not because we don’t want to clean up, but we’ll have forgotten what we went into the room for in the first place.  And when they go into the kitchen for the twelfth time and get distracted, we’ll look on in amusement with our grandkids.

I can’t wait (well, actually, I can wait, oh please don’t let me get old).

(image credit: Shutterstock)

[GreenHornet]

I know what you mean. For example, I often find myself getting ready to....wait.....sorry....I forgot the comment I was about to make.

[Resolute Conservative]

It was nice the other day in church. We attended the “contemporary” service as we do occasionally when the wife unit is running late. The pastor actually told the congregates, in the course of his message, they need to seek out those that attend the traditional service and thank them, for their generous giving and desire to encourage people to worship in a “comfortable” environment there would be no rock concert service to attend. The traditional service which is about half as large attendance wise generates 70% of the church budget.

[Opinionated Blowhard]

LOL. I knew I was getting old when I started to get out of bed stiff and achy and, like my wife says, had to walk around like Frankenstein for about 10 minutes before my joints started working correctly again.

[outofsalt]

"I am fairly sure that time itself doesn’t change (although special relativity might kick in)..."

I find this to correlate well to my expanding equator. Time gets faster every time I buy a new belt.

[Awgie]

Turning 65 in July. I am still working full-time as a Physical Therapist here in Tampa. I do Home Care Physical Therapy.

90% of my patients are the model of “old people” none of us would want to be. Wracked with pain, psychologically dependent on a witches brew of synthetic pharmaceuticals, immobile and dependent on others.

Treating people like this allowed me to understand the challenges and pitfalls of growing old in modern day America. I resolved to avoid the most obvious mistakes.

It's really common sense. Diet is #1 and exercise is #2. Dealing with stress and getting enough sleep are also important.

I eat mostly at home. Simple meals are prepared by my wife or I. Avoid restaurants and processed/prepared foods.

I developed my own home exercise system. For the past 5 years all I do if 10 minutes/day using my “MobilityBar.” This routine has allowed me to improve and maintain my strength, balance, flexibility and endurance.

My 10 minute MobilityBar Routine is also designed to be therapeutic, addressing the biological needs of our major joints. Joints, not muscles are the key to sustaining a life time of physical fitness.

If joints are injured we suffer and they don't heal up like bones and muscles. Exercise for joint health and muscles will be taken care of as well.

Nearing 65, I can still run, jump, throw, climb...and basically have fun.

Every Saturday, all year round, my childhood buddy and I go to the St pete Beach on the Gulf of Mexico. Even in the summer when its REAL HOT!

We enjoy clowning around, looking at girls and running around throwing and catching the frisbee. It's a great way to keep our youthful attitudes and keep track of our fitness level.

Check out the video I made from a few weeks ago. I am the shorter guy. 10 minuets/day...that’sa ll I exercise using my “MobilityBar.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mNXQw7Hhla4

[Resolute Conservative]

Only reason I cannot sleep more than 5 or so hours is I have to visit the restroom.

Reminds me of a story of 3 gentlemen in a retirement home. One 70, one 80, and one 90. The 70 year looks at the other two and states, “I miss the day when I could take a healthy whizz.” The 80 year old smirks and says, “I miss the day when I could take a healthy dump.” The 90 year old chuckles and says, “Shoot, every morning about 8 I take a healthy pee and every morning about 9 I take a healthy dump. My problem is I don’t wake up until 10!”

[I want the USA back]

Some people seen fascinated by numbers ending in zero. Even more fascinated by a number that ends in two zeros.

Some people tie assumptions and expectations to those numbers. Nonsense, all of it.

[outofsalt]

If you eat right, don't drink, don't smoke, get plenty of rest and exercise you get eight more years in an old folks home. Some folks want to grow old gracefully but I'm aiming for disgracefully;) Besides, the only way to avoid the aches and pains of getting older is to endure the aches and pains of vigorous exercise.

[Buckeye McFrog]

8. I still actually listen to AM radio

[fivecatsandadog]

No no no. You stick the fork in HIS eye. You’ll learn.

[grania]

What a sad pathetic creature. A decade is a milestone to be measured in what lies ahead, not in what holds one back. Everything after 50 is a gift.

And not being open about ones age:....that's so last generation!

[HotHunt]

I am 67 and can attest to the days and weeks seemingly flying by at a faster rate than they used to. I've been known to remark to my wife when my supply of pills in my 2-week pill box run out, "Seems like I just filled this thing up only yesterday."

Being retired but still working (we raise beef cattle on a farm), is nice because there is no clock to punch or boss to report to. But life still tugs at your time and responsibilities to get things done. I lose track of what day of the week it is because there is no longer the workdays and weekends like there used to be when we both worked at regular jobs. I even have holidays that pass without noticing because I'm out of the loop now. I tell my wife, "I didn't get that memo."

My health is good except it seems like that most times I travel to the big city anymore is for medical appointments. Always something to check, or to be tweaked or to fix with this old body of mine.

This getting old shit, is getting old.

[momtothree]

:)

[rfreedom4u]

I turned 50 last month. My wife attempted to make a big deal of it until I reminded her that no matter how old I get she will always be older. Cold icy stare followed.

Now that I am 50 I don’t sweat stuff anymore. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that my kids will make stupid mistakes but that they are THEIR mistakes not mine. I continue to give advice/guidance often. They choose to take it or not.

I have been having health issues that I never noticed before because I was active duty for 26 years but have slowed down since I retired. Going to the doctor sucks but it is necessary. I did quit doing things that I don’t want to do (except for going to work). But that is on my calendar.....

[rfreedom4u]

9 times out of 10 when I order dinner while we are out I will forget what I ordered by the time the food arrives.

[Responsibility2nd]

Man, I could have written this.

Loved the part about the middle-aged crisis cars. Mine were convertibles. Nothing too flashy; a Sebring convertible and later a Mustang convertible.

[Popman]

Bm

[wally_bert]

Added to watch later.

[mowowie]

Same here.
I look at these stupid hipster kids nowadays and am glad i grew up in 70’s and 80’s.

[Flycatcher]

Enjoyed the video. You guys are good frisbeeists. (Is that even a word?)

Keeping physically active keeps you young.