Here’s another vote for having reached an age (about 70 for me) where you realize that from now on, every day when you wake up something is going to hurt. It changes around, but every day it is something.
Though, about 10 years ago, there was an incident that was both flattering and depressing.
I was managing a research group and one of the scientists wanted to invite a potential collaborator, a well known professor working in nanostructures. So we invited the professor to visit and give a seminar on his research. He came, gave his talk, which I attended, and seemed to have some real insights, focused in technology we were interested in.
After his talk, I walked up to him and introduced myself. He looked at me a little strangely and remarked that we had met before. Try as I might, I had no recollection of this. He explained that when he was in graduate school, I had stopped by his poster at a major conference (one that I have been heavily involved with over the years) and spent an extended time talking to him about his research.
I was flattered that my spending (probably about ten minutes) time with him had stuck with him, but a little depressed that I had reached an age where someone established in a research field remembered me as a “grey beard” from his own grad school days.
The Life expectancy column is a bit more comforting. At 70, your over/under is 13.59 years. But if you make it another year to 71, your expectancy only declines by ~half a year to 12.94. You lasted one year but only lost half a year of expectancy.
There’s a nice-sounding sort of asymptotic approach to doom there. Like maybe you could get arbitrarily close then hang there indefinitely. Not gonna happen, but one can dream.
In the last year or so, in addition to a new collection of health issues that have been making my life —interesting, I’ve come to the realization that I’ve approaching the age at which my father and his father died early to mid 70s). While my mother died relatively young (mid-50s) I do still have a ways to go before I outlive her parents (mid 80s).
for me its pissing in a straight line/stream … I took a leak in the yard the other day, and things got “out of hand” … IOW I looked like a sprinkler on acid ;-))
My grandfather was born in October of 1900, just barely in the 19th century. I am now just a couple months older than he was when we watched the moon landing together.
I guess there are perks to not being able to process numbers. But I feel old every time I look in the mirror. Although I am more or less as strong and flexible as I ever was, my stamina is much lower. I take naps every day.
I still do stupid things – this week I ended up on a crazy 5 mile mountain bike trail with my horse, which was pretty horrible (horses cannot safely do things like slide down a steep granite slab, or scramble over piles of boulders) and it was so hot and humid we were both bruised and dripping with sweat when we finally emerged. But now being stupid thoroughly exhausts me.
Many things I used to find rather tiring I now find are more like life-destroying, worth strenuously avoiding. Like shopping malls, raucous parties, and political arguments.
I’m not yet seventy, but in the past couple years I have begun to feel myself fading.
I got the Senior Discount on a movie ticket the other day. I didn’t ask for it. I am also not eligible for it for another 12 years. But I also will gladly take it if it’s offered.
When I was a teenager we had to start paying for adult movie tickets at twelve. One of my classmates was short, baby faced and flat chested and got kid price for at least until she was fourteen. And she never asked.
I visit my local library almost every week to pick up something on hold. A couple of weeks ago I got the dvd of Charlie Chan at the Circus. The white-haired lady librarian said, “I remember watching Charlie Chan on Sunday mornings!” (on a local tv station.) And I said, “So do i! With Sherlock Holmes and Flash Gordon!” At which point I realized I was in the same age range as said lady librarian.