I’m becoming very comfortable with the fact that I’m now in my 60’s. I don’t find myself wishing that it would be possible to return to any earlier age. On the contrary, I’m quite content with my lot in life and with the age at which I find myself. I can’t imagine going back for another chance to relive those same missteps and blunders which I so thoroughly mastered on the first take.
Some aspects of my advancing age have been expected, such as the speed with which time seems to go by as I grow older. I first started noticing this when I was in my late 40’s, but my perception is that lately time compression seems to have gotten very heavily into steroids. Is that a dental drill I hear or the second hand on my watch spinning?
I’m sure that there has probably been some scholarly research into the phenomena of time speeding up as one’s age increases. Short of that, I’ve always assumed that this appears to happen because as we grow older any particular segment of time, i.e. a day, a month, or a year, represents a constantly decreasing percentage of the total length of time that one has been alive. For instance, at the age of 10, one year equals 10% of your lifetime. At age 60, it’s only equivalent to 1.67%, hardly the blink of an eye! Such is life.
A second aspect of aging that came as no great surprise to me was the onset of a common condition which a good friend of mine referred to as, “Creeping Obesity.” I’m not talking about out of control weight gain, but rather that almost imperceptible expansion in one’s pants waist size from say a svelte 32″ to 34″; and then on to a husky 38″! All as a result of faulty metabolic software which invariably seems to go out of whack at around the age of 40.
Now that I think about it, this age of 40 thing seems to be inexorably associated with the onset of many of the less enjoyable aspects of aging.
It was about that age when I first experienced random and otherwise unexplainable aches and pains upon rising in the morning from a well deserved slumber. One day my right knee would arbitrarily decide not to straighten out properly, this oddity to be replaced a few days later with a crick in my neck or a perplexing spasm in my back.
Naturally, all of these symptoms seemed to heal themselves just as quickly as they had first appeared. The root cause of this particular joy of maturation appears to reside in our firmware. Which leads me to ask, where’s a good 40 year or 100,000 mile warranty when you need one?
On the flip side, I’ve been surprised to discover that as I continue to age, I’m becoming more and more sentimental. It’s not that I find myself wanting to pet kittens, dismal creatures that they are. Rather, I’m finding that I’m likely to respond emotionally to situations and events which in the past would have left me totally unfazed. This has been the source of some slight personal confusion as this trait seems to be in direct contradiction to my evolving and very comfortably fitting persona of the Resident Curmudgeon. This anomaly is going to require additional observation and study before I can comment further.
In the meantime, I’m going to have to avoid any mention of “Old Yeller” . . . . hold on . . . . give me a moment . . . . the very thought of what that rabid wolf did to that little boy’s dog causes me to go all verklempt!
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