Over-the-hill and embracing it

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

It finally happened. Against all of my best efforts I turned 40 yesterday.

Growing up I used to think that 40 was over the hill. I used to think that 40-year-olds were know-it-alls who just repeat the same stories over and over about how things were back when they were young. Now I think 40 is over the hill and that 40-year-olds are just know-it-alls who just repeat the same stories over and over.

My girlfriend keeps telling me that I look and act really young for my age. She is a sweetheart but not a great liar. Or, maybe, that is her way of saying I act immature. Hmmm.

There are many ways I can tell I am getting older besides the graying, thinning hair, the propensity to scream "get off my lawn!" and the fact that if I wanted to date someone half my age it wouldn't be against the law.

For starters, after a day of normal activity I wake up the next morning and everything hurts. And what doesn't hurt, doesn't work. I get up from a chair and limp for five minutes because of pain in my knee that I apparently hurt while sitting comfortably. At least I don't groan when I get up... yet. It won't be long. Lately I feel like I'm a 24/7 list of aches and pains.

I think my back goes out more than I do. Used to be my back would hurt after helping someone move or a long day of playing sports. Now my back hurts when I wake up in the morning, keeping me from a long day of sports or helping someone move.

Instead of looking forward to a night out on the town, I look forward to a night in my rocking chair and television, which I invariably fall asleep watching. At least when I am sleeping nobody wonders if I'm dead... yet.

When I do wake up it is before the sun, whether I have to get up or not. I used to get in at 5 a.m. and now I am awake starting my day at that time. I couldn't stay up until 5 a.m. if I was getting shots of adrenaline every 45 minutes. I can't even tell you what time Taco Bell closes anymore.

But there are other signs. The other day I finished mowing my lawn and I washed my lawnmower. Since when did I become proud of my lawnmower? Not to mention I talk about mowing and even write silly columns about fighting with moles.

And the price of gas is now a major thorn in my side. I can't pass a gas station without a 10-minute rant about how we are getting cheated at the pumps. I don't even have to have someone in the car with me to babble on about the government and oil companies.

It gets worse. I was out playing with my nephew the other day and I asked him to do something. He asked "why?" I replied with "because I said so!" If that doesn't mean I'm getting old, I don't know what does.

I listen to the radio and music from when I was in high school on the oldies channel and I see people dressing like the '80s and '90s during turn-back-the-clock events. And I don't even have to dig into my closet to join in the throwback day.

Friends tell me they are pregnant and I congratulate them instead of console them. I have conversations with friends about how they are potty training their kids and about how their kids are doing in school.

I have trouble understanding what kids are saying and have to ask what things like "deuces" mean. I see a kid doing the same things I did 25 years ago and all I can think is "kids today have no respect."

Instead of fighting it, I'm going to embrace my being over the hill. For starters I am going to act like I know everything (big stretch I know) and repeat the same stories over and over. Maybe I will start wearing black socks with sandals, eat dinner at 4 p.m., watch the Weather Channel every day and call friends to let them know what the temperature is going to be.

I'm going to purposefully forget things and blame it on my age and drive like I am the only one on the road. I'm going to tell the same stories over and wear black socks... what was I talking about?

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