It’s so weird. My son turned 50. How can that be? I was 50 just a few years ago. Wasn’t I?
If you have children and you remember “The Howdy Doody Show,” there’s a good chance your children no longer consider themselves young – or you as anything but old. Not that they will say anything about your stage in life. They’re too worried about their own.
It got me thinking. Would I rather be 50 or in my mid-70s?
I think back to where I was at 50. I felt I was always late to something. Often, I was. My basketball jump shot had changed to a push shot (my son claims it always was a push shot). I received my first temporary membership card from the AARP. When a tire went flat, I couldn’t remember where the auto company hid my jack. All my financial attention was focused on my checking account. I had no savings account. I still thought young ladies would smile at me when we passed in the shopping mall. They did not.
I compare all that to my status today. It’s rare when I know I’m late to anything. I can still sink 7 out of 10 from the free-throw line. I don’t even pretend to think about changing one of my tires. Now, young ladies smile and open the door for me.
I’m happy I still remember Buffalo Bob.