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Monday, October 13, 2014

Calling Ponce de Leon

Beginning with the first application I received for membership to AARP upon turning fifty, reminders about my approaching status as a coot have been routine. I clearly recall my indignation trashing that first AARP application - how dare someone suggest imminent codger-hood?

Of course, denial has had no effect on the inevitable. Senior citizen discounts, surveys lumping my age in with the final demographic, movies with adult diaper jokes, etc. have all continued the onslaught. And each new marker has arrived with a distinctive eau-de-old-fart aroma. To be clear - None of this has come close to superseding my continuing gratitude for good health and a full life. But, I'd be dishonest to claim I haven't enjoyed periods when outside reminders about curmudgeon land cease, however briefly.

Which brings me to last Saturday. My Medicare card arrived in the mail.

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