On getting old...er

As time seems ever so quickly fly by, I'm starting to notice my own age. Yes I know. I'm only 28 years old. I don't know old. Heck, if you are middle aged and reading this, you are probably thinking that this whipper-snapper doesn't know the first thing about old.

And yet, even I notice a grey hair or three, a dodgy knee, and less and less energy. I see all the new students around college; they look like babies to me. And I still likely have a good half century to go before I'm destined for my good long dirt nap.

So why am I complaining? Fuck, who’s complaining?

I can't wait to get old. I'm seeing a lot of upsides, and not a lot of downsides.

Kevin's not exhaustive list of future old man powers:

1: The ability to sleep anywhere.

Man, I'm waiting for this one. I have trouble getting to sleep sometimes as is, but the ability to just sit down and fall asleep? Fantastic. I'm going to try to hone this skill so that when the time comes, I can fall asleep mid-conversation or mid bad-movie. The best part is no one will be able to get pissy with me about it. I'll be old!

2: Forgetting shit.

Hell, I don't know why this is the exclusive domain of the elderly. I forget shit all the time. Keys, Wallets, what country I'm in, what side of the road cars come from, etc. If I'm wearing pants, it's a good day, people. But once I'm in old man mode, watch out. I'll still forget shit, but there won't be anything people will be able to do about it. I'll just say "Oops, senior moment", and with a casual wave of my hand, absolve myself of any responsibility, and you'll still have an image of my withered old junk burned into your mind.

3: Wisdom.

I don't have it now, and I don't think I'll have it then. But everyone will think I do. Yup, I'll sit around, tell some story about me that likely never happened, and say "Think about it". And you'll nod your head, and think I said something profound. But in reality I won't know what I said, who you are, or what the hell I'm doing there.

4: Old man emails.
Like 32 point bold ARIAL with hot pink?
Well, you'd better learn to love it. I can't read anything else, and everything I'm sending out has it. Yup, I'll use emails too. Not that mind-mail crap or whatever you future lamerz will use. I'll alternate between crazy far-right and far-left political views and contradict myself constantly. And I'll fire off those sappy emails about "what you can learn from your dog" and the like. And you get lots and lots of em’ because...

5: Retirement.

Do I really need to say anymore? I won’t be working! Of course, my work will have been better than anything these young punks can do nowadays. Back in my day, we had to do shit with a stupid computer I tells ya! We worked for a living! Not like nowadays, where the cyborg aliens and the hover-bots do everything for us.

Well, I think it’s safe to say the future looks bright. Unless of course, there’s some kind of apocalypse, which would be kind of lame.

Of course, given that Kirsten and I both have jobs in Cambridge lined up and are both likely to be here for a while, “Bright” maybe slightly off. “Cloudy” is perhaps more like it.

I shall leave you to your knitting then.

PS: Ahh, Grampa Simpson. I couldn't have said it better. My favorite:

Brockman: "Could Homer Simpson be a communist? His father spoke out on his behalf." Grampa: "My Homer is not a communist. He may be a liar, a pig, an idiot, a communist, but he is not a porn star!"