Who's the old guy in my mirror?

Distance lends enchantment to the view.

- Mark Twain

I was in a store the other day and happened to glance at the monitor of the security camera. On it, I saw an older man, a little bit stooped, a little bit gray and more than a little bit middle-age.

But something about him made me look a bit closer. He was wearing the same clothes I was. He was - as my challenged eyesight eventually concluded - me.

I find this happening more and more. It seems we all have the image of ourselves that we carry through the day. It is usually the two-dimensional memory of what we looked like in the mirror in the morning. It is often a well-groomed, self-assured picture of success.

But we don't go through the day that way. In fact, others are more likely to see shirts gradually becoming untucked, hair drooping and (for some) lipstick and makeup fading.

A couple of months ago, someone was showing a picture of an event, which happened to include a shot of me taken from behind. Human nature being what it is, I immediately focused on myself.

"Do I look like that?" I asked about the rear view I rarely see.

"Yeah," I guess so," an associate said.

And I guess I don't like it.

Perhaps the most unsettling image comes from motion. I, for example, often go to the driving range with my son and will occasionally grab one of his golf clubs and take a few swings.

"Dad," my son said last month, "you swing like Arnold Palmer."

It took a minute for me to realize that he didn't mean the Masters-winning Arnie of the 1950s and '60s, but the one you see from more recent film clips - much stiffer and more awkward.

Because there are no mirrors on the driving range, I shifted around so that I could see the shadow of my swing and follow-through.

He was right. The shadow knows.

But at least the shadow keeps its mouth shut.

l

TODAY'S JOKE: It sounds like Bill of Hephzibah has the same concerns. He writes:

"The doctor told me to start an exercise program.

"Not wanting to harm this old body, I decided that on Mondays I would beat around the bush, jump to conclusions, climb the walls and wade through the morning paper.

"On Tuesdays, I will drag my heels, push my luck, make mountains out of molehills and hit the nail on the head.

"On Wednesdays, I will bend over backwards, jump on the bandwagon and run around in circles.

"On Thursdays, I will advise the president how to run the country, toot my own horn, pull out all the stops and add fuel to the fire.

"On Fridays, I will open a can of worms, put my foot in my mouth, start the ball rolling and go over the edge.

"On Saturdays, I will pick up the pieces, and on Sundays I will kneel in prayer, bow my head in thanksgiving, uplift my hands in praise, and hug someone and encourage them.

"WOW! WHAT A WORKOUT."