But what’s interesting about it is how it sneaks up on a guy. It’s not like your body feels the same at age 63 as it does at 25. There are well-documented (and in my case, well-articulated) aches and pains that most people don’t have when they are 25 years old. But aging happens so slowly that it isn’t until you take one of those calculated looks in a mirror (you know, the ones where you’re really looking at yourself instead of just quickly checking out to see if you have spinach in your teeth) that you think, Holy shit! When did this happen?
Or when you see a friend or an old co-worker who is your age and whom you haven’t seen in a long time, and you can’t help but notice that they look OLD. And then you have to remind yourself that you also look old. It’s easy to tell because they are looking at you funny too.
And frankly, you also act old. I’m tentative about doing things that I did without a second thought when I was 25. Like watering my garden, which involves dragging hoses over rocks. I’m so fearful that I will trip on said hose and fall on said rocks. I didn’t worry about this when I was younger because, in the unlikely situation in which I should fall, it was easy to pick myself up and brush myself off and start all over again (and see, when you’re old, you start using lyrics of old songs when you write!). But now every fall can result in one of a couple of things: 1) you break a bone; or 2) you can’t get up. You know, as in I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.
I remember being horrified when I noticed that the Muzak music they were playing in the grocery stores was songs from my high school years. Now I don’t even recognize the songs they’re playing as Muzak background in grocery stores because it’s later than my time, and I see 40-somethings looking disgruntled because they’re hearing songs from their high school days. That’s when I yearn to hear Dan Fogelberg’s Another Auld Lang Syne or Take it Easy by the Eagles, both tried and true Muzak songs.
By the way, you non-Baby-Boomers probably don’t even know what I mean by Muzak. Look it up.
I started thinking about aging yesterday morning when I went onto my iPad to check what’s happening on Facebook. You know how now half of Facebook notices on your timeline aren’t from your friends, but instead are from companies trying to sell you things? For me, it used to be Zulilly or Amazon or maybe even Nordstrom. However, this morning, my ad was for underpants that are pee-proof (their words, not mine). Usually the ads are tied to something I might have googled recently or something I purchased. If I, for example, buy something from Target online, for the next six months, I get Target ads on my Facebook feed. But this pee-proof underwear comes out of nowhere. I’m happy to say that I haven’t peed my pants since I was two years old or so. I’m sure I will soon, but as yet, I haven’t. So why do they feel the need to nudge me towards pee-proof underwear?
And while I’m at it, I must tell you it is quite annoying that Pinterest keeps suggesting pins for plus-sized clothing. While I might be working my way there, I’m not there yet. Stop Pinterest, in the name of all that is good and holy!
My 45th high school reunion is coming up, and so I’m bracing myself to come face-to-face with reality. The good news is that we have had reunions every five years, and I haven’t missed a single one. So there shouldn’t be too many shocks.
As for me, my hair stylist told me recently that my gray hair looks like highlights, and at least it isn’t yellowish. Of course, she told me this prior to payment, so she might have been performing for tips. But at least it isn’t yellowish. Sigh.