Let it be known you are reading words written by an old person. At least that’s how our government now defines me since I’ve reached the ripe old age to receive Medicare. Send in the marching band, let the trumpets blare.Yours truly is 65!Now don’t get me wrong; I don’t feel an iota different than I did 10 days ago, back when I was 64. But being long in the tooth does have its perks:
I now notice when one is referred to as ma’am (no longer miss), one receives a different sort of attention. The kind that says, “Do you need help with that, ma’am?” And, “Here, let me do that for you, ma’am.” Turns out they’re happy to help. It’s one of the more pleasant aspects of being on the road to decrepitness.
You know, time clicks by at a pace way too fast for those of us with skin more closely resembling a Shar-Pei rather than the supple, collagen-filled flesh of our youth. As we of this age know, when we’re young, time seems to move slower than molasses in January.
Well, I’ve learned a few things about that subject, like how youth is totally wasted on the young. I think we should be born old and live our lives in reverse, age-wise, like Brad Pitt in the movie The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Imagine being able to snowboard at age 90 without a single thought of potentially breaking every bone in our body. And wouldn’t it be nice to believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny late in life instead of them only being a memory from the magical world in which we once lived?
And speaking of memory, it’s such a shame to lose it as we age because it’s an essential prerequisite to reminiscing. And what are we without our memories? When we can no longer take a 50 mile bike ride or go on a camping safari in Tanzania because we’re ancient, our memories are what we rely on to remind us we actually had a pretty great life.
If you haven’t yet reached the age where you’re referred to as ma’am or sir, this posting will mean nothing to you so feel free to go about your day. Or, on second thought, read this so you’ll educate yourself as to what awaits when you wake up one day and realize you’re officially a senior, aka long in the tooth, past your prime, seasoned…
Now don’t get me wrong; it’s not like I just entered this realm. In the US, people are considered seniors once they reach age 62. So I’ve already had four years of experience being old. And like anything, there’s good and bad in that.
First the good: A senior gets discounts at movie theaters and on certain days at some grocery stores — not particularly exciting when you consider the trade-off. But qualifying for Medicare and Social Security makes it tolerable. Another aging perk is that men take pity on me, sometimes offering to carry heavy items to my car. Little do they know I can manage on my own. But why spoil their feel good moment and tell them?
Now the bad: Well, how much time do you have? Just kidding. I bet you think aches and pains are front and center. Actually I’m lucky there. I try to keep in shape, work out, play tennis, blah, blah, blah. So once I’m up and moving, I’m good to go.
What’s hardest for me is going blind. Well, not actually blind but sometimes it feels that way. Sad to say, this is a normal aspect of aging. Things started getting blurry in my mid 40s when I couldn’t read the fine print in the phone book anymore. Yes, for you youngsters, there were once phone books.
I recently made the mistake of buying a 10x magnifying mirror. I ask you, what was I thinking? There’s no good reason to buy an item that only magnifies your imperfections while accentuating those you had no idea you even possessed. But did that stop me?Let’s face it – we live in a youth-oriented society. Wrinkles are not appreciated here like in Japan or the Philippines, where those with nooks and crannies are revered for the wisdom that comes with age (accompanied by great storytelling). Nursing homes? What are those? Continue reading →
So last Wednesday I’m out of nectarines. Or maybe it was Burrata cheese. The point is, United Market carries the best of both so I made a quick stop. If you’ve never had Burrata before, I ask you, “Why the hell not?!” Simply drain the liquid, slice off a creamy section, drizzle it with olive oil, sea salt, freshly cracked black pepper and red pepper flakes (if you like to live dangerously) then dollop it on toasted, sliced baguettes rubbed ever so slightly with a clove of garlic. I tell ya, it’s cheese heaven.
Anyway, while I shopped, I found much more I wanted to buy. As usual. To look in my cupboards you’d think I’m housing 4 people here. Hey, I stock up. I’m a stocker. But the thing is, while I roamed the isles, I noticed how crowded the store was for a Wednesday afternoon.
I’ve been coming to this United Market since I was a kid. My mom brought my sister and me with her each week. Vicki and I sat in the cart eating Flicks milk chocolate discs. They were our reward for being tolerable while Mom shopped. Sometimes, when we were exceptionally good, we got Necco Wafers. I don’t recall having the opportunity to enjoy those very often.
Now don’t get me wrong; I don’t feel an iota different than I did 10 days ago, back when I was 64. But being long in the tooth does have its perks:
Now Don't Get Me Wrong 