Posted on 12/12/2014 5:20:53 AM PST by lifeofgrace
I recently marked a particular anniversary of my birth. I wont say my age but its a prime number multiplied by ten, older than 30 and not yet 70. I didnt mark the day in any particular way. Yeah there was a happy birthday from my wife and kids, but no huge celebration. I didnt want one.
Passing that milestone makes one somewhat introspective and brooding about the arc of ones life. I was just twenty, for Gods 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. Im getting older. Not quite old. Just older. Ill let you know when it turns into old.
Heres seven signs Ive 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 Id simply observe with amusement and horror how the geezers did things. And here, Ive dug them out of my own life to share with you.
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. Its true. I can go from 9am to noon without a single memorable moment and its like those three hours never happened. By the end of the day, its like I lived three hours. (Did we feed the dog? What was for dinner?) Then its 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, its Friday already? It was just Sunday! Really, it was.
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 dont bother counting how many trips I take, probably because I forget anyway.
Not often.
Not when anyones looking.
If I can get away with using 18-point fonts, Ill do that too. But man, the print on those drug bottles, and the nutrition information on food packages is so freaking small these days, its like you need a magnifying glass to read it. Thank God I have my phone camera to zoom in on things. Why dont they print things bigger like they used to?
Or maybe my eyes arent 20/10 and 20/15 like they used to be. I dont get them checked because it scares me to know the actual numbers. If I cant read it, its probably not important anyway, right?
Now, I take seven pills every day. Every. Single. Day. Three of them are prescriptions (yes, one for gout, which I wouldnt wish on the devil himself), and four of them are some kind of vitamins or supplementswith one big amber capsule full of fish oil thats supposed to be good for my heart or something. When I travel, I have to take a whole pharmacy with me. Heres my hombre card, Im turning it in. At least I still have my teeth.
Then the need for speed hit again (somewhere in my 40s) and I got a Subaru Impreza STI, which eats Mustang GTs for lunch. The hatchback version of this AWD ricochet rocket rally car is also stealthy enough that the po-po dont look for it. And it goes 90 miles an houron 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 its still an AWD car). Hey, its a lot cheaper on gas and tons more practical, and my wife can drive it too.
It was the sensible thing to do.
Im just lying to myself here. The truth is, Im becoming a fogey.
I have no idea whats 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 doctors 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 thats it. Even my son can identify the instruments being playedtheres a violin, theres a piano. Im about as musical as a rusty hinge.
But I know Im aging well because I listen to classical music now. One day I might even be distinguished enough not to burp in public, but thats a stretch.
Now I wake up every two to three hours. The clock reads 4:30am and I know its not long before I actually get out of bed. Sleeping in is 7:30. If I sleep past 8, I must be sick. Im not so ancient that I have to make multiple bathroom trips each nightnot yet at least. However I did find its 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 dont do too well past 11pm anymore. Actually, 11pm is a time I rarely see since Im 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: its a drag (my little yellow pill isnt Mothers Little Helper, its a B12 supplement).
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 its not even whiteits salt & pepper. So I have good genes and can look forward to graciously descending into decrepitude well into my 90s.
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 Ill start celebrating my birthdays again, and my present will be reminding them of their promise. I will really enjoy my retirement one dayand 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.
Well enjoy their hospitality, not replace the toilet paper rolls, eat their fridge empty, and leave dirty laundry on the floor. Its not because we dont want to clean up, but well 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, well look on in amusement with our grandkids.
I cant wait (well, actually, I can wait, oh please dont let me get old).
(image credit: Shutterstock)
One advantage. Experience no longer has anything to teach. Thank God.
And Flea from Red Hot Chili Peppers is 52.
Now they just show longform videos shot on video and edited with a video visual sense.
Lower wattage light bulbs ("for the globalist environment, don't you know?") are also making it harder to read things that used to be legible.
Every time I decide to go get the mail, I usually end up somewhere else doing something else....That reminds me, I think I forgot to get the mail yesterday
I now look at young people that want to be trendy, and are slaves to pop culture, as being complete wastes of space, instead of just being goofy.
Maybe that’s not fair, but that’s what age does to you.
The older I get. The better I was.
Ah those were the Glory Days. If only I could have that young bod with my accumulated knowledge today,
But truthfully, I dont really miss them. Just like to look at old pictures of myself when I had hair.
I recently marked a particular anniversary of my birth. I wont say my age but its a prime number multiplied by ten, older than 30 and not yet 70.
________________________________________
Well if you take 5 which is a prime number and multiple it by 10 you should get 50 (if you still do math in the old original way)
then add 16 (if you still add 2 + 2 and get 4) and you will have a total of 66..
Yes fellow FReeopers I too “recently marked a particular anniversary of my birth”. and 0.am not ashamed to say I just turned 66 on Wednesday, the 10th..
:)
I can remember helping my dad run the projector at the old Diane29 theater.
I’d light the stick, wait for the dot to show up twice on the screen and switch projectors at just the right moment.
I remember the panic when the reel would stop or jam and melt the film.
I remember helping my dad cut the melted part out of the film and glue it back together.
Circa 1977 = 8 years old
The only thing my kids know about my love life is my devotion to my dearly departed wife.
They think they are little players with the ladies... they have no idea of the revolving door I had in my apartment in the early nineties.
I’d bring one in the front door and send one out the back. They wouldn’t believe me if I told them.
When my daughter was 17 she came in one day after driving home from her after school job. She was huffing and puffing, complaining about being stuck in traffic behind a little old lady going only 30 mph. She went on and on about old people this, and old people that, I finally got tired of listening to her. I told her, “Sweetheart, let me tell you something about old people, one of your goals in life is to become one.”
Check the freezer.
Wifey and I are 8 days apart in age, and we'll hit 68 in the spring......our idea of fine dining out is - you guessed it - the buffet.
St. Paul: “”Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day!” 2 Corinthians 4:16.
You get so old you can’t do it anymore, but your memory is so bad, you swear up and down that you did it.
During the last throws of the light bulb transition (ban) I bought over 200 in various wattage. They will be the next currency with ammo...
I was at Costco the other day. I was struggling a bit (emphasis on A BIT) with a case of water. A good looking (albeit a bit younger) man walked up and asked if he could help. “Isn’t that kind”, I thought. Then he said, “hope you have a nice day, MAM... you sort of remind me of my Mother”. I wanted to stick a fork in my eye. Guess I should get around to ordering my hover craft. LOL!
hover craft = hover round. Yeah... my mind is going too.
Youngsters all.... 72 now and off to the gym!!
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