Last week I bought a beard trimmer…
because it had an attachment for nose and ear hair
I’m not even forty-two yet. I wanted to cry.
I’m 30. I realized I was no longer a kid when I could drive myself to family functions without parental accompaniment.
And I realized I was really a father when, not long after my daughter was born, I saw a rather scantily clad teenager at Wal-Mart and I thought to myself “Put some clothes on!”
I’m 47, and a few months ago a teenager gave up his seat on the bus and told me to sit down. That hurt.
If you really want to feel old, check out The Beloit College Mindset List.
The first time my barber did that to me I was ten years older than you were: “Tidy up your ears?”
Next thing you know the nasal hair gets out of control. 
Heh. 
Shiiiiiiit…
Unless you mean the guy who bangs on about the Velvet Underground, he’s cool.
The killer for me is the ahem gentleman’s rotundity. I suppose I could give up drinking beer and then start running up mountains, but what would be the fucking point?
I was in denial when the hair started turning grey. I was even in denial when the hairline started receding. But when those damn freckles appeared over my forehead where my pompadour used to be I had to finally admit “I’m getting old, dammit.” I certainly don’t like it but I always feel better when I ask myself - “What’s the alternative?”
Enjoy life!
~Peanuthead~
Freckles…or liver spots?:eek:
Just wait till your nasal hairs turn white . . . and grow a half inch a day.
When I’m getting ready to walk down a flight of stairs, I have to remember to favor the leg with my good knee. This morning I discovered that I no longer have a good knee.
I went to a concert the other day and my back got sore from standing around for a couple hours. I had to go sit down. Sigh.
When I read this thread and felt depressed because I’d experienced so many of these things.
But then I realized I’d forget all about this mere seconds after reading it.
I realized I was old when Social Security sent me my annual statement and I was grumpy because I still had a couple of years before I could get benefits and retire.
The hot blond and her two friends two rows down were shaking their little keysters the whole night and all I could think was “Hey why don’t you sit down already!”
I’ve come to grips with the hair that now appears on my outer ears.
I’m not completely ready to admit it, yet, 'cause it’s been picking away at me for a loooong time. And you never notice when it sneaks up gradually. The thing that slows me the most is the arthritis in the knees.
When my director at work had a birthday and mentioned her age and I thought “I’ve been working here for longer than she’s been alive!”
For me, it was when I noticed the first white hair in my eyebrows.
Now, I’ve been going gradually toward white on top of my head since I was about twenty (thank goodness for hair dye!), so I’ve had a long time to come to terms with that. I’ve worn bifocals for twenty-some years. I’ve dealt with arthritis from injuries for a long time. But now I’m having to use brow pencil and tweezers to have eyebrows that don’t give me away.
When Sally Field started pitching osteoporosis drugs.
I’ve not come to grips with these hairs - can’t stand them really. But my eyesight has deteriorated to the point that I don’t notice them anymore.
The lesson to be learned is for a more youthful appearance, don’t wear your glasses when standing close to a mirror.
I had one of those moments today when I was leaving the grocery store and a group of high school age girls caught my eye and one of them was wearing a realllllly short skanky little dress and fuck-me boots with four or five inch heels. She was at least ten years too young for that outfit, and also had the potential to be way too classy for it. “Kids these days, dressing like cheap whores,” I thought. “Don’t girls have any respect for themselves?”
And I am 33. I found my first two grey hairs in the last couple of months. That didn’t bother me once I found out I’m older than my mother was when she found her first. Heh.
I have a 22-year-old coworker. I like her, she’s nice, but is a very young 22. I tend to go all older-sister with her if I’m not careful; not about work, but her family and stuff. She makes me feel ancient, especially when the subject of high school came up and I told her I’d graduated 15 years ago. “It seems like forever ago, like another life,” I told her. I don’t think she believed me. Perhaps in ten years she’ll see my point.