Posts tagged: aging
A former college roommate sent me a friendly email this week. Though we always got along, I had not talked to him since the 1970s.
He said he came across my picture online. Which suggests he realizes I no longer look like I did when I was 19. That's fine.
But it leads to the question.
To what extent has the Internet nuked the illusion of friends and lovers we knew long ago remaining frozen in time?
Let's say that because of the way the vehicle next to you is parked or because your car is right next to a concrete wall, you find yourself with hardly any room to get out of your automobile.
If, when squeezing out of your car, you imagine that you are an early 1960s astronaut slowly exiting a Mercury space capsule, you are not young.
That once upon a time you were celebrated for your uncanny ability to execute a high-performance Bat turn.
You can say that.
And in certain contexts, it can be pretty funny.
But, if you spend time with people who are not your age, there's a good chance most will not have any idea what you are talking about.
That's how GU basketball coach Mark Few described one of his banged-up players in a story by Jim Meehan this morning.
I hadn't realized that 50 was the point at which a person's gait begins to resemble that of Grandpa on “The Real McCoys.”
Guess I'm overdue to begin showing signs of having a hitch in my git-along. Or whatever.
So anyway, if you are 50 or older and thought you walked normally, you might want to check again.
Few makes a lot of money, so I guess we have to assume he knows what he is talking about.
Maybe 50 is the new 80.
You've heard of “walk like a man” and “walk like an Egyptian.”
Well maybe, in Spokane, “walk like a 50-year-old” can be a thing.
If you are old enough to remember the TV commercials featuring the immortal line “Mother, please! I'd rather do it myself!”
If you are thinking of doing Google image searches on people you worked with in a previous lifetime, be sure to bolster your self-image in advance with the words of the poet, Joe Walsh.
“Everybody's so different, I haven't changed.”
How old do you have to be before you no longer give a rip about what anybody thinks if you let out a yell every time you commit to a minor physical strain?
I was behind this guy who might have been in his 70s in a grocery checkout aisle this afternoon. He dropped a penny. I would have reached for it but I was holding my bike and it would have been an unwieldy maneuver.
Anyway, when he bent over to get the coin he let out a yell. A loud, raspy one. It seemed like a sound one might associate with crocodile attacks.
I could tell from his face that he was fine and had not suffered an injury. The vocalization was just part of his exertion routine.
So, assuming relatively normal health and mental well-being, how old do you have to be before you are apt to feel OK about a similar lack of self-consciousness?
A) 58. B) 61. C) 65. D) 71. E) 79. F) Other.
You know that sinking feeling you get when you realize you have left home without your phone (because you hooked it up for recharging at bedtime the previous night and forgot to retrieve it in the morning)?
Sure. Well that means you are old.
A young person might forget to put on shoes or pants before heading out the door in the morning. But forget his or her phone? Ahahahahahahaha. Yeah, right.