Signs that you are no longer a kid (or even close)...
You're asleep, but others worry that you're dead.
You can live without sex, but not without glasses.
Your back goes out more than you do.
You quit trying to hold your stomach in, no matter who walks into the room.
You buy a compass for the dash of your car.
You are proud of your lawn mower.
Your best friend is dating someone half their age... And isn't breaking any laws.
Your arms are almost too short to read the newspaper.
You sing along with the elevator music.
You would rather go to work than stay home sick.
You constantly talk about the price of gasoline.
You enjoy hearing about other people's operations.
You consider coffee one of the most important things in life.
You no longer think of speed limits as a challenge.
People call at 9 pm. And ask, "Did I wake you?"
You have a dream about prunes.
You answer a question with "Because I said so!"
You send money to PBS.
The end of your tie doesn't come anywhere near the top of your pants.
You take a metal detector to the beach.
You wear black socks with sandals.
You know what the word equity means.
You can't remember the last time you laid on the floor to watch television.
Your ears are hairier than your head.
You talk about "good grass" and you're referring to someone's lawn.
You get into a heated argument about pension plans.
You got cable for the weather channel.
You can go bowling without drinking.
You have a party and the neighbors don't even realize it.
It seems that life goes by resembling somewhat of a bell curve of what is considered successful...
At age 4...success is...not peeing in your pants.
At age 10...success is...making your own meals.
At age 12...success is...having friends.
At age 16...success is...having a drivers license.
At age 20...success is...having sex.
At age 35...success is...having money.
At age 50...success is...having money.
At age 60...success is...having sex.
At age 70...success is...having a drivers license.
At age 75...success is...having friends.
At age 80...success is...making your own meals.
At age 85...success is...not peeing in your pants.
You know you're old, when your mind and body aren't what they used to be. Did the fine print shrink? (This is called bifocals denial.) Do your knees buckle, but your belt won't? Have your beauty marks sprouted hair? Does the gleam in your eyes comes from the sun hitting your bifocals? Do your joints sound like Rice Crispies ... snap, crackle, pop? Does your little black book contains only names ending in M.D.? Have you been driving along thinking about stuff, and suddenly realized that you don't remember the last 3 blocks? Has a fortune-teller offered to read your face? Does your pacemaker make the garage door go up when you watch a cute guy/gal go by? Is the little gray haired person who helps you across the street, your spouse? Do you have too much room in the house and not enough room in the medicine cabinet? Have you sunk your teeth into a steak and had them stay there? Have you quit pulling out your gray hairs, because you could end up bald? Does your back/knee go out more than you do?
Old Age Alphabet
Working people frequently ask retired people what they do to make their days interesting. Well for example, the other day my wife and I went into town and went into a shop. We were only in here for about 5 minutes.
from, Barbara (Pond) Richard
A group of 40 year old buddies discuss and discuss where they should meet for dinner.
Finally it is agreed upon that they should meet at the Ocean View restaurant because the waitresses there have low cut blouses and nice boobs.
10 years later, at 50 years of age, the group once again discuss and discuss where they should meet for dinner.
Finally it is agreed that they should meet at the Ocean View restaurant because the food there is very good and the wine selection is good also.
10 years later at 60 years of age, the group once again discuss and discuss where they should meet for dinner.
Finally it is agreed that they should meet at the Ocean View restaurant because they can eat there in peace and quiet and the restaurant had a beautiful view of the ocean.
10 years later, at 70 years of age, the group once again discuss and discuss where they should meet for dinner.
Finally it is agreed that they should meet at the Ocean View restaurant because the restaurant is wheel chair accessible and they even have an elevator.
10 years later, at 80 years of age, the group once again discuss and discuss where they should meet for dinner.
Finally it is agreed that they should meet at the Ocean View restaurant because they have never been there before.
Botox and nose drops and needles for knitting,
Cadillacs and cataracts, hearing aids and glasses,
When the pipes leak, When the bones creak,
Hot tea and crumpets and corn pads for bunions,
Back pain, confused brains and no need for sinnin’,
When the joints ache, When the hips break,
Life was so much better when we were young."
I hear that a lot these days. How things were safer, simpler, even sexier back then (perhaps based on the theory that less is more).
My friend J.C. Spitznagel is a true believer in The Good Old Days.
Just yesterday he saw an article noting that when we were in high school, more than 50 years ago, the top seven discipline problems were “talking, chewing gum, making noise, running in the halls, getting out of turn in line, wearing improper clothes, and not putting paper in wastebaskets.“
"Know what they are today?" J.C. demanded.
He was going to tell me whether or not I even cared. He counted them off. "Drug and alcohol abuse. Pregnancy. Suicide. Rape. Robbery. Assault. And guns in the school."
As J.C. launched his usual rant about how today's world is going to hell in a hand basket, I began thinking about the huge changes we seniors have seen in our lifetimes.
Take health care. When I was a kid in Park Ridge, Illinois, old Doc Sergeant would come to the house to care for our extended family — including parents, grandparents, an aunt, cousins, and a "roomer" — all living under the same roof.
The doc charged five bucks a visit, no matter the affliction. Even post the “Quarantine Notice” on the front door if necessary.
To hear J.C. talk, everything after 1950 has been a menace to society.
Especially television, frozen foods, plastics, and credit cards.
Oh, he'll concede that dishwashers, electric blankets, air conditioners, and drip-dry clothes — all postwar innovations — probably aren't exactly inventions of the devil. Yet, down deep, J.C. would rather have his push mower and stoker-fed coal furnace than any of today's contrivances.
Talk to J.C. about radar, the pill, split atoms, laser beams, or Man walking on the moon, and he'll grumble that we're going where God never intended us.
Certainly, life was different back then. We got married first, then slept together. And, mind you, not in the same bed, at least never in the movies of those days. Back then, having a meaningful relationship was when your uncle took you to the circus.
Service stations had service. Fast food was what our Catholic friends ate during Lent. "Made in Japan" meant junk, and "making out" referred to how you did on your algebra exam.
Pizzas, Starbucks, and McDonald's were unheard of although, while in high school, I was present at the opening of the very first McDonald's ever, in Des Plaines, Illinois.
But who knew? To me, it was just a 10-cent burger joint.
Those days, a nickel would buy you a ride on the streetcar, make a phone call, buy a Pepsi (“Twelve full ounces, that's a lot!“) or enough stamps to mail one letter and 2 postcards. Gas was 16 cents a gallon.
The good old days meant climbing trees, cowboys 'n' Indians, chocolate milk, sucking on ice chips just cut by the iceman, licking Mom's mixer beaters, and catching lightening bugs in a jar. Also hard-to-push mowers, polio, and widespread prejudice.
All in all, I'll take today's life anytime. Heck, indoor plumbing and life-saving pharmaceuticals alone make the choice easy.
Lets' face it, if I'd been my age back in those good old days, I'd be dead right now. Most likely J.C. as well.
How about you?
© 2001-2009 — Frank Kaiser
I stood there stupefied. I am 48, not even 50 yet? A mere child! Senior Citizen?
I took my burrito and walked out to the truck wondering what was wrong with Emo. Was he blind? As I sat in the truck, my blood began to boil. Old? Me?
I'll show him, I thought. I opened the door and headed back inside. I strode to the counter, and there he was waiting with a smile…
Before I could say a word, he held up something and jingled it in front of me, like I could be that easily distracted!
What am I now?
"Dude! Can't get too far without your car keys, eh?"
I stared with utter disdain at the keys.
I began to rationalize in my mind.
"Leaving keys behind hardly makes a man elderly!
It could happen to anyone!"
I turned and headed back to the truck.
I slipped the key into the ignition, but it wouldn't turn.
I checked my keys and tried another.
That's when I noticed the purple beads hanging from my rearview mirror.
I had no purple beads hanging from my rearview mirror.
Then, a few other objects came into focus. The car seat in the back seat. Happy Meal toys spread all over the floorboard. A partially eaten doughnut on the dashboard.
Faster than you can say ginkgo biloba, I flew out of the alien vehicle.
Moments later I was speeding out of the parking lot, relieved to finally be leaving this nightmarish stop in my life. That is when I felt it, deep in the bowels of my stomach: hunger! My stomach growled and churned, and I reached to grab my burrito, only it was nowhere to be found.
I swung the truck around, gathered my courage, and strode back into the restaurant one final time. There Emo stood, draped in youth and black nail polish. All I could think was, "What is the world coming to?" All I could say was, "Did I leave my food and drink in here?" At this point I was ready to ask a Boy Scout to help me back to my vehicle, and then go straight home and apply for Social Security benefits.
Emo had no clue. I walked back out to the truck, and suddenly a young lad came up and tugged on my jeans to get my attention. He was holding up a drink and a bag. His mother explained, "I think you left this in my truck by mistake."
I took the food and drink from the little boy and sheepishly apologized.
She offered these kind words: "It's OK. My grandfather does stuff like this all the time."
All of this is to explain how I got a ticket doing 85 in a 40. Yes, I
As I walked in the front door, my wife met me halfway down the hall. I handed her a bag of cold food and a $300 speeding ticket. I promptly sat in my rocking chair and covered up my legs with a blanky.
The good news was I had successfully found my way home.
The people who are starting college this fall were born in 1991.
They are too young to remember the space shuttle blowing up.
Their lifetime has always included AIDS.
The CD was introduced two years before they were born.
They have always had an answering machine.
They have always had cable..
Jay Leno has always been on the Tonight Show.
Popcorn has always been microwaved.
They never took a swim and thought about Jaws.
They don't know who Mork was or where he was from.
They never heard: 'Where's the Beef?', 'I'd walk a mile for a Camel ', or 'de plane Boss, de plane'.
McDonald's never came in Styrofoam containers.
They don't have a clue how to use a typewriter.
Notice the larger type?
That's for those of us who have trouble reading.P.S. Save the earth… It's the only planet with chocolate.