Like sands in the hourglass...
A little later this month Mr. Bobo will stop and sigh and take a deep breath - and then try to blow out fifty-six candles on an Italian Cream birthday cake. That's my plan anyway. My primary care physician and my cardiologist agree: I'm chugging right along, and though I feel as if I've put a lot of miles on this vehicle, I think I'm good for quite a few more.
Old age is not for sissies.
I've seen this clever quip attributed to Bette Davis. Maybe she said it, maybe she didn't. But I'm pretty sure anybody over forty would agree. I think it really hit home with me one morning when I realized that getting out of bed - just getting out of bed - suddenly required EFFORT.
Another Bette, Bette Midler, has observed a shift in the demographic profile of her audience:
They used to do drugs, now they take meds.
Yes, I believe I have entered the age group known as Old Farts. I have caught myself saying disparaging things about "kids these days." I am sometimes frustrated when the software on my computer updates itself overnight and suddenly my email looks different. The parties are now more about food and less about the drinks. I suddenly don't know all the songs and artists playing on the popular radio stations.
All of that does NOT mean that I'm not having a good time. I am having a very good time. Friends and family are dearer to me than ever, and I enjoy the time I get to spend with them more than I can ever remember. Fun? I'm having the time of my life. Tomorrow I get to go see the eye doctor for the first time in my life. I can't wait to find out whether I am developing cataracts or just finally getting to the point where I get to wear bi-focals, or maybe even tri-focals. Whatever the case, I am looking forward to being able to see better.
So I'm excited to be able to enjoy that Italian Cream birthday cake. I don't care if I'm 56 or 66 or 76. Life is really, really good. Happy Birthday to me.