That’s it. I’m old.
I was asked yesterday by an old lady cashier at the checkout counter at Pharma-Plus if I was a senior. She said, “Are you a senior? Over 65?”
That pretty much punctuates a feeling that I’ve been having for quite some time. Plus, I figure if you’re asked, you must look it. Or at least close to it.
Now, I’ve been feeling my age for some time now. A few of the most noticeable items:
One word: pain.
Chronic back problems started with a jump from a 12 foot fence at a football game in State College PA in the early or mid 90’s, and before that with carrying a window air conditioner during an apartment move in the late 80’s. Stabbing pain leading to regular immobilizing “eposides” at least once a year since.
Sights and sounds.
I’ve been making the “old guy noise” while reaching, bending over to put on boots, etc., for at least 20 years. I’m quite gray now. I started getting gray in high school; now I’m mostly salt without much pepper.
Pathetic injuries.
I recently tore a rotator cuff just catching a ball lobbed at me from first base during little league baseball batting practice. My most recent back "episode" was a "getting out of bed" injury...
Horrid sights.
Recently when I trimmed my goatee very close, I noticed small wrinkly disfigurements on my chin line-- certainly the start of “proto-jowls”, soon to be actual jowls. Yes, jowls. Maybe I can reverse the inevitable if I start now on some kind of radical starvation diet. I’ve had the beard now for nearly 10 years, and it looks like now I have to keep it for good!
Okay, okay. The evidence is in.
Being older than I looked was cool when I was 17; I could easily pass then for 18 or 19, and get served beers in bars. That was way cool.
In the summer of 2011, I had to show my ID in Boston to get a beer, which you’d think would be alright, but really, it was ridiculous. There is no way anyone could look at me, and wonder if I was old enough to drink. The truth was that the beer servers had to ask the question to everyone, or risk losing their jobs. I knew that. Some 25+ years earlier, I was asked for ID at the same place (Fenway Park), when I was 25. At that time I could easily pass for 35, and I was okay with that. Those were the last 2 times I was ever asked if I was “old enough” to drink.
Now I’m being asked if I qualify for senior (over 65) age pricing discount benefits at the drug store.
Crap.
I was asked yesterday by an old lady cashier at the checkout counter at Pharma-Plus if I was a senior. She said, “Are you a senior? Over 65?”
That pretty much punctuates a feeling that I’ve been having for quite some time. Plus, I figure if you’re asked, you must look it. Or at least close to it.
Now, I’ve been feeling my age for some time now. A few of the most noticeable items:
One word: pain.
Chronic back problems started with a jump from a 12 foot fence at a football game in State College PA in the early or mid 90’s, and before that with carrying a window air conditioner during an apartment move in the late 80’s. Stabbing pain leading to regular immobilizing “eposides” at least once a year since.
Sights and sounds.
I’ve been making the “old guy noise” while reaching, bending over to put on boots, etc., for at least 20 years. I’m quite gray now. I started getting gray in high school; now I’m mostly salt without much pepper.
Pathetic injuries.
I recently tore a rotator cuff just catching a ball lobbed at me from first base during little league baseball batting practice. My most recent back "episode" was a "getting out of bed" injury...
Horrid sights.
Recently when I trimmed my goatee very close, I noticed small wrinkly disfigurements on my chin line-- certainly the start of “proto-jowls”, soon to be actual jowls. Yes, jowls. Maybe I can reverse the inevitable if I start now on some kind of radical starvation diet. I’ve had the beard now for nearly 10 years, and it looks like now I have to keep it for good!
Okay, okay. The evidence is in.
Being older than I looked was cool when I was 17; I could easily pass then for 18 or 19, and get served beers in bars. That was way cool.
In the summer of 2011, I had to show my ID in Boston to get a beer, which you’d think would be alright, but really, it was ridiculous. There is no way anyone could look at me, and wonder if I was old enough to drink. The truth was that the beer servers had to ask the question to everyone, or risk losing their jobs. I knew that. Some 25+ years earlier, I was asked for ID at the same place (Fenway Park), when I was 25. At that time I could easily pass for 35, and I was okay with that. Those were the last 2 times I was ever asked if I was “old enough” to drink.
Now I’m being asked if I qualify for senior (over 65) age pricing discount benefits at the drug store.
Crap.
