When I was a kid, I couldn’t imagine being this age, or for that matter, anyone being this age. That was a long time ago, and people didn’t live quite as long then, but still.
As a man in my twenties and thirties, I didn’t think about age much at all, other than in a very casual way, such as knowing the ages of family, friends, pets, maybe someone famous. I just never thought “When I’m (age), I’ll (be, do…)”. So yesterday when I woke up and thought “It’s my birthday, I’m … years old. My God.” It’s a shock. I don’t feel that old. I don’t think I look that old. It’s true, I may act that old and I guess the number of visits I have to make to medical people would indicate I’m not in the full flush of my manhood (hmm, was I ever?), but that many decades? Wow.
I was also thinking of all the things that we had when I was growing up that are gone, and all the things we have now that didn’t exist then. Sometimes I think it was a better world without computers, certainly without smart phones and social media. Not that I miss party lines, or rotary dial phones, or having to change the channel on the television by getting up, walking over and manually turning the selector to the channel setting I wanted.
But, gosh. I’m old. I think I’ll go take a walk.