"Go on and write me up for one twenty five. Post my face, wanted dead or alive. Take my license, all that jive. I can't drive fifty five."...Sammy Hagar...
Tomorrow is the day. I turn the double nickel, I'll be 55 years old! It's hard to believe, but time marches on. The old rockers whose music I listen to now own old rockers. I saw an aging Eric Clapton doing a commercial for Fender T-mobile Mytouch, without the music and older footage of him, I may not have recognized ole Eric. And I'm a big fan ( and one look in a mirror would support this statement). Age is such a relative thing.
I remember when my mom turned 30, I was 11 at the time. I recall feeling a sense of sadness as I thought mom had begun playing the back nine of her golf course of life. Then came the day when I turned 30, of course I still considered myself a pup at that time. Heck, the "old" guys were the over age 50 drivers that I worked with at UPS, the guys who bathed in Old Spice and Brut, whose bones cracked and joints popped when they walked. Yet number 55 approaches. I'm dealing with it well, though I know that I'm not really old.
Yet I think part of the reason that I did not renew my AARP membership was that, to my way of thinking, old farts belong to that organization. Damnit I am not that feeble YET! Now would somebody please pass me the whole wheat bread and bran flakes? Peace to all...John : )
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