I’ve misplaced my youth; I am sixty-seven years old as of today and I never thought I’d live this long. My hair is gray, my hands have arthritis, my skin has liver spots, if it weren’t for eye glasses I’d be blind, I’m almost totally deaf in my left ear, my prostrate gland is enlarged, and I need a lot of dental work. Many of my childhood friends are dead and I have only one living blood relative.
On the other hand, I can still breathe in and out on demand and I can still get out of bed and move around without help. I can eat almost anything I want without ill effects and I spent most of the weekend hanging out in various places with my darling Marcie.
Life could be a hell of a lot worse; it could also be a hell of a lot better. I’m glad I’ve lived the one I have and I intend to keep living it as long as possible.
Happy Birthday,Lou. I feel I can call you Lou since we seem to be kindred spirits. I’m 60, how the Hell did this happen!? I always knew that the number of years I’d lived would continue to increase, but no one ever mentioned getting OLD! I should still be beautiful, but there’s some fat, ugly, old broad looking at me from the mirror.
Happy birthday!!! You youngster, you! Let me just add that a wasted youth is better by far than a wise and productive old age. If you really want to find your “lost” youth, spend a day doing kid stuff. Fly a kite. It’s March, the sun is shining, the wind is winding, and you can sing Mary Poppins’ songs. Buy a yo-yo and some bubble stuff. And bounce one of those big red balls. When one of my daughters was turning 40, we “made” her do all this stuff and by 4:00 she asked if it was ok for her to go back to being “middle aged” and just have a gin and tonic.
Oh, and listen to your mother’s wee small voice and go to the dentist. The next 25 years will be SO much better with teeth.
If it’s any consolation, I’m a mere 53, my spousal unit is 50, and we were given, unasked and unexpectedly, the senior discount at our breakfast buffet on Saturday. I can understand my husband maybe getting it - his beard is almost all white. But my tresses are still the blondish-brown they’ve always been, and I don’t have that many wrinkles on my face, do I?? :eek:
Me, too. I thought it was on the back shelf of the closet, but it’s not. The closest I can get to it any more is checking out the young hotties at the mall, then heaving a sigh and moving on.
Because I was also beaten to the couch cushions joke, I will offer a bottle of champagne, a complimentary smooch (or two) on the house, and my heartiest best wishes for your birthday. Congratulations!
