By Dick Platt
Corsicana Daily Sun
I got my Medicare card in the mail last month, and it caused me to reflect on the ramifications of this milestone in my life. The following are some of my random thoughts on getting older.
It has been said that the secret of happiness is to count your blessings, not your birthdays. Actually, birthdays are good for you. Statistics show that the people with the most of them live the longest. The first thing I noticed when I got into my 60’s was how young people in their 70’s are. (By the way, now that I’m nearing the mid-70’s, those 80-year olds are looking mighty good.)
One clue that my life is entering a new stage is the fact that my son is beginning to look middle-aged. He likes to say the reason I am so good at history is that I was around for most of it. (I don’t know where he gets his sarcasm from.) That’s OK. My motto is that he who does not remember the past is condemned to forget where he parked.
He laughs at me because my back goes out more than I do. It’s true. I now start for home about the same time as I used to start for somewhere else. Every time I do the occasional night out, it is followed by at least one day in.
It seems like everything on me is starting to wear out, spread out, or fall out. Almost everything on me hurts these days — what doesn’t hurt, doesn’t work. I have developed age spots that spell out “Old Poop!” Did you ever notice that, when you are over the hill, you begin to pick up speed? Do you ever wonder what is the youngest you can die of old age? Sometimes I think the definition of “retired” means I was tired yesterday and I am tired again today. My big gripe with this retirement business is you never get a day off!
Whenever I start having these negative thoughts, I try to think of the bright side of senior citizenship. I like to say it’s not old age I’m experiencing — it’s the dawning of the fiber years. I am at the age now where, if there is a hostage situation, I will be the first one released.
Let me close with these philosophies on the aging process:
There are three stages of life: youth, middle age, and “You haven’t changed a bit.”
Male menopause is more fun than female menopause. With female menopause, you gain weight, become overly sensitive, and get those awful hot flashes. With male menopause, you date young girls, drive motorcycles, and build man-caves.
It’s not all that important if you are getting a little older, a little grayer, or a little slower. What is important is that you are getting a little something.
Well, there you have it. Some of my goofy perspectives from about eight years ago when I was still a young pup. When this rant is printed, we will have made the trek to Sarasota, Florida and The Little Woman (she still objects to the term) will be madly spending our meager stash on furnishing the new house. She is already obsessing over the decor which, to the best I can discern, will be “Oriental Florida.”
Annie the Cat will have made the trip in a huff and will be snooping into every corner of the new digs with that look that says, “Where in the hell did you guys put that litter box?”
As for me, I will be relegated to my beat-up old easy chair with an ice pack on my back. Also, I will be eagerly awaiting the Super Bowl between the Denver Broncos and the Green Bay Packers which we will be watching on several TVs which will still be perched on top of packing boxes. (Editor’s note: Oh well.)
A couple more “punography” favorites to close: Jokes about German sausage are the wurst. Did you hear the one about the dyslexic man who walked into a bra? Did you hear the one about the cross-eyed teacher who got fired because she couldn’t control her pupils? Try to be kind to your dentist — he has fillings too you know.
Dick Platt is a Daily Sun columnist. His column appears on Tuesdays. Want to “Soundoff” on this column? Email: firstname.lastname@example.org