I was going to write about how much a pain it is getting old.  I decided that no one wants to hear me gripe about my aches and pains.  Instead I’m going to muse on the joys of living long enough to be old.  Well, I’m not really that old, I just feel that way today.  No, I’m not hungover or anything, just feeling my age.  And some would say:  “About Time!”.

I am old enough to know that it is not my possessions or how much I have that defines me.  I have a good, comfortable life.  I might have a few aches and pains, but 9 or 10 ibuprofen and they mostly go away.  I can’t run much, arthritic knee, but I can get around and do whatever I want.  My eyes are bad, but then they’ve always been less than optimal.  I have had to wear reading glasses since college.

All of us AARP members have it so much better than folks 50 years ago.  When I was 10, 60 was  old enough to be decrepit and doddering and ready for the retirement home.  When I was 20, 60 was ancient, really old.  When I was 30, 60 was still old, but not as old as it used to be.  At 40, 60 seemed a lot less old, and kinda close.  By 50, 60 was just another milestone to mark the way to maybe, growing up, if I have to, I guess (apologies to the Red Green Show’s “Man Prayer”).  I’m not 60 yet, but it doesn’t seem as old now, just a stop on the way to adulthood.

I mostly feel like I’m about 16 mentally, emotionally but not physically.  I sometimes feel like I’m playing dress-up and I’m gonna get caught any time now.  I refuse to age gracefully.  I’m going kicking and screaming.  I will not “act my age”.  I will not dress like an old man or wear old man clothes or old man shoes or old man glasses.  I not wear socks with my sandals.  I will not get those wrap around sunglasses that take up your whole head.  I may not move as quickly or as nimbly as I used to, but most of my aches and pain are from overuse.  My mouse finger hurts because of too much mousing.  My knee hurts because of tennis and softball and such, not from disuse.  Okay, maybe some sitting on the couch, but I’m old, dammit, cut me some slack.

Ah well, what is that old saying:  youth is wasted on the young?  I know that as much as I toy with the “what ifs”; I wouldn’t be who I am or where I am without my mistakes and mis-steps.  I kinda envy those who seem so much more successful than me, but most of them are just fortunate or rich.  They have fallen into their lives almost by accident.  I have stumbled and failed my way into to mine.  I wouldn’t trade it for the world.  See ya on Thursday.