Warning: This column may teeter on the edge of being morose. If you don’t like old fogies on the dance floor, or old fogies period, then this one ain’t for you. If you are old and you know it but are still trying to deny it like me, then this column is definitely for you – tailor made for you as they call it.
Today, I received yet another invitation for an old fogie birthday bash. How do I know it is an old fogie bash, well when you are welcoming a person’s 40th birthday, I think you can safely assume that this bash is an old fogie bash, especially if the invite says something like “Taking you out of youth”. Flash sign – you are now in an old fogie birthday bash. When the birthday cake has way too many candles, it is absolutely an “old” fogie bash. How do these old folks find me, I don’t know. I wonder where they got my address from. Oh well, I fess up. I am friends with these old fogies. After all birds of a feather, often flock together. And by that token, I too suffer from the same malady – I am advancing rapidly to old age too. Toodeloo youth, vigor and energy! Hello there, achy limbs, back aches, bad cholesterol levels and diabetes.
Ah youth, such a fleeting period of time. I don’t even remember when I was young. Hold it just a minute. I still have aeons to go before I turn 40. Hello what am I saying. I’m not old, I’m young! At least when compared to all the folks I’ve been hanging around with – they are OLD as in ancient!!!!
Life begins at 40 they say, and to that I say “You Wish!” Truth be told, life ends somewhere around 35. Once you’re on the wrong side of 35, then you’re just in plain “old” territory. The cola companies don’t care one hoot for you, the beer commercials do not even speak to you, the marketing managers and advertising agencies don’t have you down as a marketable segment. Do not despair, my “old” friends(pun absolutely intended), you still are very important to certain companies. The life insurance dudes were just waiting to get us on their rosters and the AARP is waiting for the next decade to pass so they can send you your very own personalized AARP card.
Overheard recently, “let’s go to SOB guys. Heard it’s the hottest club in town.” SOB stands for Sounds of Brazil. Yes, I’m all game. And I don’t care that some of the “youth” out there in the club are a decade or two younger than me. Read my lips, I don’t care. So what if I look around self consciously when I get there finally. Actually make that “if I get there” instead of “when I get there”.
When the teen movies no longer make sense to you. And the latest teen sensation is probably your son’s classmate.
When you can read the Williams Sonoma catalog from page 1 till the end in one sitting. And not just look at pictures. I mean read the excerpt on the very expensive cast iron slow cooker priced at only 245 dollars. It is especially intriguing since you just bought one at 17 dollars just a couple of months ago.
When you know what a stock market is and can sit through and listen to stock averages for an hour. Nikkei, DOW, Sensex, S&P all these finally make sense. When you have gained “experience” by losing a shit load of money in the last stock market crash.
When you worry more about retirement rather than having a good time. When you count the number of decades you’ve been in the workforce rather than the number of years. Two decades gone, another three to go before I sleep.
When you drink wine by the glass and not by the gallon. The $9.99 gallon jar of white wine of questionable vintage is no longer the drink of choice. When your taste runs more to expensive red wine.
When you actually open up your Social Security annual statement and wonder how little the government can pay you for your sweat and blood.
When you buy a minivan to lug those tiny people you call your heirs. When there are more soccer and baseball games than there are days.
When you have a house with a big yard and you have no hope in hell to mow the lawn without a lawn mowing service or a rider lawn mower.
When you own more combs than the number of individual hairs on your head.
When the discount bin at Burlington’s can get you all excited.
When you just have to hit the sack at 10:00 pm sharp every night.
When you have “assets” vs liabilities. When you no longer fit the YFB population. Young, Fabulous and Broke!
When you know what HDL and LDL stand for.
When you are ready for mammograms and you finally realize it has nothing to do with an animal name and everything to do with breast cancer.
When you watch cosmetic surgery on Channel E! and wonder if you need a tummy tuck or a face lift. The liposuction may be gross but you still watch in fascination wondering how much of that fat stuff you are carrying inside you.
When eating carbs is taboo. When eating carbs is a luxury. When eating carbs is a FANTASY!. Aalo tikki, Samosa Chaat, Rava Idli, Onion Uttappam, man these are a few of my favorite things.
When you have a birthday bash declaring you are 40.
These are just a few tell tale signs of aging. I
’ve worked in HR all my life or at least it seems that way. In one of the firms I worked at, I was putting in an online Benefits module. One of my customers was a lady who held the utterly foreboding and morose job title of ” Bereavement Specialist”. What she actually did was administer benefits for deceased employees. So all day long she would be talking to family members of the deceased, some of whom were half way to the grave themselves. You had to give the lady kudos because despite having a glum job, she was always in the best of spirits and one would always find her ready with a joke or two. When her workload suddenly increased and she was forced to put in 50 hour work weeks she put it in without a complaint. Of course she would joke about it often, “What’s up with the country Guys. These employees are falling like flies. I’m telling you, they’re hitting the bucket three people a day. I cannot seem to keep up with them. Please God, save the poor guys. Slow down the pace to one person a day.”
They say, you’re as old as you think you are. Well, thinking ain’t believing. I can think fifteen but I may still look like 50. But I’d rather be the age I am rather than going back to the days back in school. No more exams for me. Recently I had an ITIL exam and I was up till 2:00 am cramming. My elder son wondered out loud what I was doing to which my husband replied, “Mommy is ghotting. Do not disturb”. Trust me, I haven’t sweated this much since about a decade or so ago. The last exam I wrote was for my MBA and suddenly I had another exam for ITIL certification. Oh my God! And trust me the exam was not easy, how can it be if all the answers were similar.
Q. Which of the following illustrates a building?
- The leaning tower of Pisa
- The Empire State Building
- A McMansion in New Jersey
- The Buckingham Palace.
Seriously, the answer could be all four. So this was one tricky exam. Whew! Am I glad that is done. No more ghottoing for me, thank you very much. But I digress, I apologize. ‘Tis a bad habit I know, but blame it on my advanced age and my much too feeble brain. My concentrating power is not exactly what it used be.
But, and here’s the grand finale. I love my “old” friends. I’d rather be friends with them than with any one else in the whole wide world. So every old fogie who is going to turn 40 soon, I’ll be there for you. I will be there to make a couple of digs at how old you are and how young I am. I will be there on the dance floor to keep all you wheezing fogies out there company. I’ll be wheezing right alongside you. So, we’ve had quite a few 40th b’day bashes. Soon there will be no one under 40 left in our crowd.
Here’s to finally growing up. Here’s hoping we get just a tad bit wiser too. Or in a couple of decades we’ll just be wizened old folks.
Young at heart, but old of age.
