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You Know You're Old When...

BigRedskinDaddy

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Wow. Been so long since I've put my name up in lights like this I darn near forgot how. Like riding a bike though; once you remember how to work the pedals the rest is gravy. Soooo -

I thought it might be nice to try to inject some levity into the swirling maelstrom of chaos and gnashing teeth that are the hearts, minds and websites of every Redskins fan everywhere these days. Laughter is good medicine after all, and everyone who loves the B & G could undoubtedly stand to be so medicated -- now more than ever.. To that end here's my concept, and what prompted it: the last month or so I've seen a steady stream of ads pimping TNT's new series "Men Of a Certain Age" every-freaking-where. Watch two innings of playoff baseball and you'll see a minimum 2-3 of these suckers. The constant bombardment -- TV's unwavering modus operandi -- got me to thinking. First I got down with the knowledge that yes, I am one of these cats, though out here in SoCal we're more likely to say Dudes of a yadda yadda. In the interests of time and type I shall call them MOCA's from here on out. Anyone reading this who is asking himself why can stop right here; to read further risks permanent cerebral hemorrage. Now where was I?

Oh yes. Men, or Dudes of a...you know the rest. The semantic difference is purely splitting hairs, but let's face it: most guys in our demographic are more than willing to do so. Splitting the hairs doubles their number, after all....

So anyway, I'm now old. Or getting old. I'm sure I never signed on for anythiing like this but it happened anyway, whatta ya gonna do? It snuck up on me, just like it does to everyone, but here and there I had a few of those "wow" moments when I finally got that I was now of the Geez. What's kind of cool about some of those reminders is they were oddly, amusingly ironic, which softened the blow I suppose. I have never been a hyper- vain mirror freak who would sell his immortal soul to erase a few gray hairs and some wrinkles, but I suspect that even if I HAD been I might not have spent the rest of the week sobbing uncontrollably after each of these little epiphanies.

I don't know if any of you really care about these "you know you're old" glimpses of mine, but I am definitely curious to hear about similar instances that my like-aged brothers and sisters might have had and feel like sharing. Shooting the breeze like this might take our minds off the state of our beloved 'Skins, if only briefly. Then again, maybe not -- but it can't hurt to try.

This thread is an invitation to throw out one or two of those "aww shoot" moments that revealed the true length of your teeth, and in no uncertain terms. By no means am I trying to restrict participation here to us MOCA's; indeed, If all goes well I figure a couple of hardy seniors will pop in long enough to snort at our sniveling self-pity and yell at us to stay off their lawn...and no doubt more than a few grommets will stop by long enough to laugh, shake their head and silently vow NEVER to let this stuff happen to them.

Uh, yeah....about that. Fear not, my younger brethren; it can and WILL happen to you. And that's not even the worst of it. I've heard a rumor that not one of us is getting off this rock alive. I know -- that sucks. Thing like that kind of glosses all the other stuff into fairly insigificant trivia in my opinion....so let's not waste any more time.. Without further ado, <drumroll> "You Know You're Old When....."

One day out of the blue I noticed that on certain mornings I put actual thought into where I would sit to put on my shoes or work boots. Where I would sit. One of the most take-for-granted things in my world was now being semi-planned....

A few years back I was driving somewhere in my van, by myself, rocking some killer 'Ryche (Om and Boone, among others, strike me as sufficiently familiar with the British Invasion of the 60's to feel me) when I suddenly needed to turn the stereo DOWN. Down. Just a little, but my gosh. This broke the streak of about a million and a half times I had told myself to be patient but a little longer, the day was fast approaching when I would install the most aurally devastating car audio setup ever known to Man. So you know, that was a little different...

Again, not sure when exactly this happened, but a while back I crossed the "Ma'am/Miss" line, which as I understand it means I can now use either without fear of upsetting one of the Fairer Sex no matter how young or old she is. Not that I CARED about this invisible line -- but the part about not having to do a lightning-fast mental calculation before the greeting or risk bodily harm is way cool. Everything has it's perks, it's just that some of them aren't readily apparent. That's my story and I'm sticking with it....

One more (for now) and I'll call it good. While I've had poor vision my whole life, or almost, for some time now I've noticed that my sturdy, reliable contacts or glasses don't seem to be doing the same trick quite so well anymore. Couldn't figure out why for a long time; I had just had an eye exam. my gear was current and in good shape....what was up? Struggling to read the Sports section one late afternoon I became aware of how much I was raising, lowering and tilting my head depending on where I was reading. Sigh. Fate insists on adding insult to ocular injury by requiring my use of bi- or Heaven forbid tri-focals from here on out.

In exchange I have suddenly, inexplicably started looking....err, not THAT bad in those half-a-foot wide, full wraparound Ah-nold on crack Blue Blocker shades. The same ones which, if I understand the commercial testimonials right, offer enhanced glare protection that results in making the naked eye more or less as powerful as the radar imaging of the Voyager probe.

And eventually look pretty, if not cool, at least not so GOOBER as they initially did.

Maybe. I dunno. I might not have looked with the proper tilt....

There's my opening salvo of completely unimportant, time-wasting self-absorption, my friends. Feel free to pull up a chair and do the same, if the mood strikes ya. If not, hey, that works too.

It is commonly understood that a lot of us fossils stagger around talking to ourselves, making this droll offering the cyber equivalent of incoherent muttering..........minus the sight of me shuffling around in my skivvies.

So you've got that going for you --
 
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Let me put my dollar store reading glasses on (if can remember where I put them) and join in the old fart stories.

For me it had to start when my arms became too short to read anything. Now I have glasses in every room, the car, and at the office. If go out to eat and forget a pair, I have to order a specials cause can’t read the menu. From a distance can see perfect.

Then couple years ago it was my doctor saying “at your age” you need to have a colonoscopy. Didn’t want to, but doctor and wife said you will. Procedure was a piece of cake. Drinking that crap day before about killed me.

I know I’m getting old when start to count the time to qualify for senior citizens discount at McDonald’s and other places. Need to order my AARP bumper sticker.

Will give this some more thought when remember what I was suppose to be thinking about. Let me go and see if can find my teeth…….
 
O.K., I'll bite here as well.

Having double cataract surgeries in 2006 actually alleviated the need for the myopia correcting glasses I had worn since age 12-and since the procedure was fairly hi-tech, and the new nearly liquid artificial lenses had built-in UV block I fancied myself a quasi-Six Million Dollar Man. (That reference alone belies any claim to youth I might prevaricate about). Anyway, as the saying goes, I too found that my arms had inexplicably shrunk to the point that I was holding reading material too close to my eyes for comfort-or basic legibility. Thus I invested in the requisite reading glasses. That didn't bother me all that much, since it was my arms' fault for the aforementioned shrinkage.

However-one day I lost them. The reading glasses, that is. Now I've always hated losing things-it's an accusation one makes to oneself and a finger-shaking admonition to pay attention, dammit! Soooo...I started looking for the glasses.

And kept looking.

For an entire afternoon.

I finally concluded that I had left them somewhere, perhaps at someone's house while visiting, and reached the unhappy conclusion that I'd simply have to go buy another pair.

Now, I have genetically inherited an unusual proclivity for sneezing when exposed to bright lights-sounds odd, I know, but a certain percentage of the male population has this anomaly and I'd had it since childhood. I decided to go outside for a walk, it being a beautiful day for a walk, and remembering this odd sneezing habit thought that taking a Kleenex with me might be a good idea. So I got one and put it in my shirt pocket.

Well, actually, I tried to put it in my pocket. I couldn't. Something was in the way. Something hard. Wiry. With smooth glasslike features. Glasses-reading glasses.

I spent an afternoon looking for the glasses that were in my shirt pocket the whole time.

I have managed to keep the fears of encroaching dementia at bay fairly well, although it would be easier if an incident like this was an isolated occurrence.

It's happened twice more since.

Aaarrrrrghhhh! :eek:
 
I know I was getting older when chasing women that if caught one was too tired to do anything. So now, much like fishing, exercise catch and release.
 
...I fancied myself a quasi-Six Million Dollar Man. (That reference alone belies any claim to youth I might prevaricate about). ...

Good stuff you guys. That's the kind of gallows humor I was hoping to spark with this topic somehow. Little did I know how close to home such responses would be however. I can relate to just about every one of your collective tells way more than I would like.

RE: Colonel Steve Austin serv, you and I know that show rocked, and did so in the Golden Age of prime-time serio-dramas. It held it's own against the likes of Starsky and Hutch, SWAT AND The Rockford Files -- no mean feat my friend.

(and it would have even without the estimable Oscar Goldman running the show...)

:elvis:
 
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I think we need to clarify "getting old". BigMike...36 is still young and mere child to me. Krylon is the only way to color all my grey hair.
 
I think we need to clarify "getting old". BigMike...36 is still young and mere child to me. Krylon is the only way to color all my grey hair.

BigMike is probably the youngest of us in this thread, true -- but he doesn't look a DAY over 55.

Not one.

I kid, SD brother. I kid because -- you guessed it -- I love,

:bucktooth:
 
riggo, that reminds me of the saying that wisdon is wasted on the old and energy or vitality (??) is wasted on the young.

-or something to that effect. :)
 
Mike, I'm 61 and still poke fun at young guys-and flirt with younger women-and act half my age (or less!) a lot of the time, probably to compensate for those inevitable, uncomfortable "senior moments" (God, I hate that phrase!). It's fun as hell too. Until...well, here's another "Oh ****, I am getting old" moment I had not too long ago.


I stopped in a local Wendy's for a quick pick-me-up of arterial-plaque-inducing, grease infused, Wendy's triple, large fries, and large McFlurry-the one with the Oreo cookie bits in it. Damn the cholesterol, full speed ahead, comfort food.

(Please note, this is not anything I do on a regular basis-maybe once or twice a year-I haven't lost my senses completely yet.)

Anyway, when it came time to pay for this attempt at gastronomic suicide, the youg guy-couldn't have been over 17 years of age-had undercharged me for the meal. Well, I didn't want the poor fella to get in trouble, get fired, or have anything happen that might twist his psyche to the point of him becoming a dangerous sociopath ten years from now, so I kindly informed him of his error.

To which he replied. "Sir, I gave you the Senior Citizen discount."

Then he smiled.

I paid him, got my change and left. Now, it sometimes takes a few seconds for things to register with me, so it wasn't until I'd left the store that it hit me.

He hadn't asked. I hadn't asked. He just looked, saw me and thought it.

Old.

Old=Senior Citizen Discount.

He didn't even ask to see my ID to make sure I qualified.

He just looked, saw this old dude and gave him the Senior Citizen discount like he was supposed to.

Oh, and I forgot to mention something-after I had turned away from the counter and was heading toward the door, he said "Have a nice day, pops"

"Pops!"

That registered about three seconds after the Senior Citizen discount did as I stood outside the door

Crap!. (Actually it was much stronger than that but I have an aversion to typing that many asterisks at one time.)

Only three things kept me from going back in the store and strangling him.

One, it's just not a nice thing to do.

Two, you can go to jail for stuff like that.

Three, I'm 5'-8" and 61-this guy was about 17 and 6'-3" and weighed about 230lbs.

I would actually like to see 62.
 
Servumtuum

The exact same thing happened to me. Also at a Wendy’s.

This was in the summer of 2008 and I had just turned 55. I was working out of town and had mentioned my age to a woman that worked at my client. She said 55? I thought you were about 45.

So I was feeling pretty good about myself. Until I went to lunch …. At Wendy’s.

Like you I placed my order and the woman serving me (a woman of a certain age BTW) gave me a lower price. Thinking that perhaps she had got the order wrong I questioned it. She leaned toward me and whispered: “You’re 55 right?” I said yes. She said “Senior Discount.”

So consider yourself lucky, you are 61. I got the discount without even being asked when I was 55 and one month. You can also rationalize it that to the 17 year old, everybody over 30 looks old. To the woman who served me, everybody looks young – except me. :(
 
I had to share this pic I found that seems to fit in really well here.

1.jpg
 
It was definitely when I saw my first gray pubic hair!
 
I'm 52 and try to eat fast food often as possible. Figure the Zocor I take needs something to work on or else wasting my money. :)

BigMike...don't think I can remember 36. :cry:

Like servumtuum I try to have as much fun as possible. My 18 yr old wanted to wrestle me for TV. (He is a wrestler and very strong) Told him I would all the while knowing he would whip my butt. Before we started reminded him that dad controls car keys and cell phone. The old man won! Brought the kid to his knees with that one.

Recently went to store and bought some wine. The cashier (little girl) asked for my idea. She made my day and wanted to give her a tip.

Yesterday at an Art League function (my wife made us go), my wife went to bathroom as we were leaving. I told my boys that I bet could take the plastic plate was holding and throw like a frisbee and mess up the lady playing the harp. My 18 year was laughing and the 16 year old told my wife that dad is being bad. Point is even though aging can still act much less than half my age.
 
Last May I took up running to get in shape. That worked for about a year but now my ankles are both shot. So I took up Tae Kwon Do, which I have a black belt in from high school/college years. I figured that would keep me in shape and strengthen my ankles which would help get me through physical therapy to rehabilitate them. Besides my 7 year-old daughter was taking TKD classes and this I could help her out and all.

Three classes in I break my right wrist. I'm in a cast for three weeks. Now I can't even tie my own shoes.

Oh, and did I mention the kidney stone I had a month ago?

I think I slammed into the brick wall of middle age. I've been feeling very old lately.
 
Maybe H., but you look fantastic :)

Have you considered buying a bike? Low impact at our age is a big plus. Not saying you can't get hurt on a bike - we just had a guy killed in my area. But I think you'd really enjoy it. Most bike shops sponsor weekend beginner-intermediate rides on weekends to get you started. I am in love with the sport and have easily shed 25 lbs this year.
 
All kidding aside, my blue-collar career path in commercial construction has undeniably been a blessing as far as keeping my body in reasonably good shape. I'm 43 now and far from the well-conditioned athlete I once prided myself on being (rightly or wrongly), but I've been hanging white gold (drywall) since I was 13 and professionally since I was 19 or 20. It's not the easiest way to make a living, but it WILL keep the excess lbs off, damn straight.

Course, it does nothing for my continuing cigarette habit, err, addiction. I am preparing for that nasty little life change as I type, however -- though it has at least as much to do with the economics of smoking as it does the physical dangers. Had the tobacco industry not lost that massive anti-trust suit and THEN turned right around and defrayed those damages by raising pack prices to nearly 500% between then and now, I'd probably still be happily toking down my 3/4 - to 1 whole pack a day without any qualms.

I know, I'm a damaged unit. Man's gotta have some vices, don't he? :insane:
 
I know I'm relatively young, but I just got really depressed when I saw my nephew is as tall as me. I remember skipping my TA classes my senior year in HS to go play with him as a whittle baby. Now he's taller than me and can wrestle me to the ground. Talk about depressing.

I can't, um, drink, like I did in college. One night of getting a little crazy with friends and I'm down and out for several days, mentally and physically, lol.
 
Last May I took up running to get in shape. That worked for about a year but now my ankles are both shot. So I took up Tae Kwon Do, which I have a black belt in from high school/college years. I figured that would keep me in shape and strengthen my ankles which would help get me through physical therapy to rehabilitate them. Besides my 7 year-old daughter was taking TKD classes and this I could help her out and all.

Three classes in I break my right wrist. I'm in a cast for three weeks. Now I can't even tie my own shoes.

Oh, and did I mention the kidney stone I had a month ago?

I think I slammed into the brick wall of middle age. I've been feeling very old lately.
Oh snap! Haha. I'm really sorry, but I can't help but laugh at that horrible luck, that is seriously terrible. Can't wait until I just start breaking stuff left and right, booo
 
I know I'm relatively young, but I just got really depressed when I saw my nephew is as tall as me. I remember skipping my TA classes my senior year in HS to go play with him as a whittle baby. Now he's taller than me and can wrestle me to the ground. Talk about depressing.

I can't, um, drink, like I did in college. One night of getting a little crazy with friends and I'm down and out for several days, mentally and physically, lol.

I think that skill set leaves you in the mid to late 20's. It's one of the reasons I quit. I just got tired of feeling like ass for the next three days. Well, that and setting myself on fire one night:)
 

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