Literally, my card - in exchange for a small fee.
This must be where HAL (the computer from 2001:A Space Odyssey) went to work.. an all-knowing bunch of circuit boards and wires that knows when every person turns the big 5 - 0.
It's been a little more than a month and I'm acclimating to my more advanced age. The Girl Scouts offering to help me cross the street have been polite. The baby aspirin is working... so far. And, I'm getting use to the soft food.
But, while I will acknowledge being older... I really don't want to cop to being old. Isn't 50 the new 30? Or at least the new 40? I still think of myself as the skinny 19 year old trying to find his way to class on time... so how can I be 50?
Because the A.A.R.P. says so.
I've been told signing for the A.A.R.P. card is the thing. It means discounts when I travel. It means being a part of the largest special interest group in the country. It means "Real Possibilities." Really, as opposed to the Unreal Possibilities I usually consider?
Good thing they give me a couple of months to send in the cash... maybe by then I will reluctantly decide to participate. Part of my reluctance is my natural tendency to fly against the current or swim against the grain... I don't want to do something because everyone else does.
I haven't read the whole packet of stuff they sent, so maybe once I get those reading glasses on, I can check on what real possibilities I might be missing without them.
So far, I've negotiated this advanced age just fine.
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