It’s a funny thing, this thing age. How do you measure it? By birth certificate? That way, I’m 60. By physical feel? Some parts of me feel 100 years old, some will make do with feeling my birth-certificate age, while a few others feel very young. By mind? How you think? There, I’m a kid, refusing to grow up.

How are we seen? When I was in the Air Force, I went to a local off-base club with a couple of other airmen. I was very late-twenties maybe, but I got carded. Yesterday, at a place where I was getting a haircut, a fellow customer said I looked like I was only in my forties. A nice compliment! Yes, I thanked her. And yet I’ll go to fast-food places and other convenience stores, and they’ll ask if I want the senior discount, or they’ll just give it to me without saying anything, so I’m 65 or older to them.

How do we judge? If I’m asked my age, I have to say what’s on my birth certificate, only because that’s my legal age. But is it how old I am? How do you tell?


About carolynsworld

security officer, library rat, cat lover, into fantasy and some scifi
This entry was posted in everyday life. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s