Trying to accept aging with grace - sort of

Apparently when a person reaches the age of 60 he realizes his body is never going to be the same.

These days, when the doctor asks what body part hurts and/or doesn’t work, it’s easier to just list the things that don’t hurt.

My upper lip doesn’t hurt. That’s all that doesn’t hurt. Even it quivers a bit when I think about my age and condition.

Hitting 30 hit me hard but 30 x 2 has proven to be the hardest yet.

When you close in on 50, AARP sends you that fake membership card and I’ve successfully ignored their frequent mailers for a decade now. But they’re playing hardball when they perfectly time the arrival of one of those missives on your 60th birthday.

Since I’ve spent a lot more time in doctors' offices lately I have read some great articles in the AARP magazines that litter their waiting rooms. I’m still trying to figure out why my contemporaries are being interviewed in that darn magazine. But those interviews are interesting.

When I started qualifying for senior citizen discounts the tightwad in me just thought it was pretty cool. I feel a little guilty about taking that discount at high school ball games. After all, I spent most of my earlier life getting in for free because I was covering the game. The high schools I’ve followed are never going to break even on me unless they consider all the outstanding coverage they got a bargain.

Naps are a great idea these days it seems. If I don’t plan one it seems I’ll be taking one anyway during the news or in front of my computer at work. I thought I had that little problem worked out with a CPAP machine, but apparently either old folks actually need naps or I need to crank that sucker up a few notches. It’s truly amazing how easy it is to zone out as a sexagenarian.

Sexagenarian is a funny word. Seems like it would be referring to something else, but nope, they’re not talking about that.

Maybe I’m just grouchy because I never got any birthday cake or maybe it was because I had to pay my Rotary Club based on my age just to get someone to sing happy birthday to me.

Social Security and Medicare are just a short few years in the future now. With my luck even that will fade away just like my memory.

If I could just have a full week feeling like I did when I was 25 I would make the most of it. It would frighten the hell out of my wife, but it would be worth it.

Karl Terry writes for Clovis Media Inc. Contact him at:

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