I can’t quite say I’ve been waiting my whole life for this birthday, nor can I admit to dreading it too awfully – it just kind of happened and here we are.
It’s a wonderfully roundish number, a theoretical mid-point sort of place where the past stretches back farther than the aging eye can quite see and the future remains of uncertain enough length to lend a mushy credence to the title ‘middle-aged’.
I expect to start getting hails and howdys from AARP very soon if not on this very day. They already know who I am – Aunt Bee became a member of proper standing 5 years ago – but now it’s officially my turn. I now qualify for a special rate on my car insurance and may even get discounts from some of my favorite (selected) merchants. Admittedly that does take a bit of the sting out of membership in an Association of Retired Persons about 15 years before I’ll even be able to afford retiring myself.
Elsewise, I’ve been going gray since my early 20’s, always had a fondness for older women, and like to drive Cadillacs, so I pretty much fit in already.
What concerns me more than anything is that I’m transitioning to a new demographic.