It’s intriguing
how our perspective changes as we age.
I remember when I
was a little kid, wishing fervently to get older. Second-graders had more
status than first-graders. And they were bigger.
Later, when I was
a teen-ager, I yearned to be 21 so that I could drink legally. Not that
legalities actually were stopping me much at the time.
Then, when I was 21, I’d get annoyed if someone would
ask for my ID. I was a certified adult. Didn’t I look the part?
For a long time
thereafter, I didn’t think about the passing years all that much. But there
came that time at O’Hare Airport in Chicago
when a server carded me, even though I clearly was way, way over 21. She
explained that her boss had told her to card everyone, no exceptions. I didn’t
mind. It still felt sort of good.
And now that I’m
old enough for senior discounts at most places, I certainly want to take
advantage of that privilege. I’m willing to admit I’m over 65 right there in
public and ask for the discount. I don’t even get upset when I’m told that I’ve
already been given the discount without my asking. I’d hate to look too young
and miss a discount because I’d forgotten to bring it up.
How about you?
Are you happy with your age now?
You should be.
Eventually, it pays.
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