Another year down the drain. Christmas is over, birthday is over. Entering another year with teeth bared and claws curled. Humph.
The older you get, the faster time flies. When I was a child I thought Christmas and birthdays never would get here and it seemed to be years between birthdays. Now, I can’t live one down before another one slaps me in the face.
It has stopped being funny. Around 1980 my birthdays became sucky. I don’t need a special day to be reminded that I’m 30 (and holding).
Shut up — you haven’t seen my birth certificate. You don’t know how old I am. Just ‘cause I look 105 doesn’t mean that I’m NOT really 30. I’ve just lived hard and my chemical composition didn’t respond well. So, there. “That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”
I can remember a time when I thought 30 was an absolute ancient stage of life. Now, I’ve got children older than that. Yeah, I know, they are older than me. It’s one of those weird phenomenons that nobody can explain.
Experts tell us that time is relative to a person’s perspective. Time moves to us according to our perception of it.
When I was a puppy, I thought I was immortal. Time couldn’t touch me because I had plenty of it. I would never grow old. I would never die.
Surprise! You wake up one morning and you are old according to everyone around you. How, you think, did this happen. My mind is the same — well not the same exactly. In my own opinion, I’m so much better now. I know this and you know this but my family and close friends (who see me every day) might disagree.
I seem to have a lot more loose skin hanging on these crusty old bones and my mirror is a malfunctioning piece of dookey. And — it hears my complaints every time I allow it to TRY to honestly reflect my awesomeness instead of distorting everything like a circus mirror.
Someone told me ... “Couldn’t it be that life seems faster to you now because everything IS FASTER. It used to take a week to travel 50 miles on an ornery ole mule. Now it only takes minutes. In the near future, it may only take a nanosecond.”
Someone else said ... “When I was a child, I had nothing to do all summer. I was bored to tears and spent every day asking my parents for something fun to do. Summer felt like forever because it seemed empty. Now, I have so many responsibilities, so much I have to do that I feel time is passing by at the speed of light. Busy is the answer.”
Another someone said ... “We’re close to the end of the toilet paper roll when we are older. Bigger circles 0-vs-o take less revolutions; ergo, goes faster.”
This last parable is so stupid it makes sense and I can understand it.
There are a few definite advantages to entering the senior citizen’s club.
• In a hostage situation, you are likely to be released first before you die on them.
• Things you buy likely won’t have time to wear out.
• You don’t even try to hold your stomach in when a cutie enters the room. You’ve embraced the motto: What you see is what you get, warts and spare tires.
• You get discounts. It’s a prize for being you.
• All those years you paid through the teeth for health insurance is finally paying off. Your doctor and insurance company are on your speed dial.
I refuse to admit I’m more than forty-two, even if that does make my sons illegitimate.
Former member of British Parliament