In less than 48 hours I turn 60 years old.
Numbers don't lie.
Sooo, what hits me between the eyes right now is an email comment I made to a friend the other day, and upon which she commented on in her reply. I would like to comment on that.
I was discussing something with her that had me somewhat frustrated and I carelessly blurted out, via my keyboard, "Well, back in my day..."
Did I really say that? That is something my grandfather would have said. And he did, as I recall. Numerous times. I know I promised myself over and over that that was the kind of response that would never come from me. After all, I'm young, hip, with it, and cool (and no doubt dating myself right there by using those very ancient and tired adjectives). How could I have said that? It must be a human conditioned response located somewhere in our DNA. (In this case, in regards to aging, I can only guess that DNA must mean Do Not Acknowledge).
My friend, who is 50-ish, replied, "...I have caught myself saying the same thing as of late."
Another friend of mine, slightly older than me, emailed to me something about aging that sounded something like, "I'm too young to know better and too old to care." I think that's what she said. She emailed that a few days ago and I just...can't...seem...to...remember...
Anyway, I need more friends like these two. Because of them, I'm starting to learn something else about numbers: there's safety in them.