Are you getting old? Most of us never think we’re as old as we are, denying the advances of age and all its acquired accessories.
Diminished eyesight and hearing seem to come gradually and are often shrugged off in middle age. Kids have trouble seeing and hearing, too.
Eventually you have to face the truth, and there is, I think, one sure-fire measure to determine your official induction into social seniority: Do you sit down to put on your pants?
This grudging insight came to me the other day as I realized I now rest on the corner of the bed to slide on my pants, one leg at a time each morning.
For most of my life I have nimbly (sometimes gracefully and always swiftly) accomplished the one-legged-stork method of standing up and sliding into my drawers. But lately, I’ve found myself a bit wobbly. Sometimes I’ve almost tripped, stomping my leg down quickly to avoid toppling.
Now I usually sit. And think. And try to remember if I put my socks on yet.
WHERE IS IT? Memory loss is another sign of aging. Where did I put my glasses. Where is my billfold? Do I have to use the house phone to call my cell phone to find it by its ring? That sort of thing.
In recent years I have tried to overcome this by putting things away in a “special place” so I will know right where to go when I need them. Insurance papers, bank stuff, that sort of thing.
My problem is I forget where these places are.
Days, months or years later, I will come across one of the household caches, and remember when I put it there and why.
Maybe I should start keeping a “Memory Diary” and write it all down.
MORE OLD STUFF: The North Augusta Arts & Heritage Center on the first floor of the North Augusta Municipal Building is preparing an exhibit on the lost town of Hamburg. If you have photos or artifacts from the old Hamburg location, please contact Lauren Virgo, executive director of the center, at (803) 441-4380 or e-mail at firstname.lastname@example.org.
TODAY’S JOKE: Here’s one shared by Seth Benson, of Millen, Ga.
A man sitting in his backyard was suddenly startled as a late model car crashed through a hedge and stopped on his lawn. A very old driver staggered out.
“My goodness” he exclaimed, “you are quite old to be driving!”
“Yes” he replied,” I am so old, I don’t need a license.”
“Really?” the man said.
“Yep. Last time I went to my doctor he examined me and asked if I had a driver’s license. I told him yes and handed it to him. He took scissors out of a drawer, cut the license into pieces and told me, ‘You won’t be needing this anymore.’
“So I thanked him and left.”