Observations from the aging.
I’m now 61, (me and Angel are Virgos, yeah!) and it’s amazing to me the things that have transpired with respect to human behavior as one ages. Especially me!
For example:
I would NEVER pass gas (fart) in a grocery store when I was younger. But now I won’t hesitate to let one loose near a screaming kid who wants “Captain Crunch” instead of the “Raisin Brand” the child’s parents have chosen.
Used to be reluctant to return defective items to the store when I was younger because I thought I would be looked upon as some sort of a “pain in the ass” to management. Age changed that! (Big Time)
Actually WATCHING “Dancing with the Stars”, go figure???
Moving a Gopher tortoise off a two lane road while parked in one lane with my flashers on pissing off those behind me until the tortoise has been safely relocated. Actually most people are patient with this.
I could think of many more, but now it’s your turn!😉
Have a great week!
Well, this isn't quite related to your point, but I've learned that all those cute young women who seem so attentive to you aren't doing it because they think you're hot; they're just being nice to you because you're old.:-(
Don
I've always been a pleasant person. But the urge to yank a cell phone outa that lady's hand and throw it across Walgreen's while standing in the check-out line is getting pretty tempting.
If I was the second in line at a stop light, and the person in front of me was distracted when the light turned green, I used to just 'toot' the horn, being polite....now I just mash on the horn and don't let up until they're all the way across the intersection. Especially if it's that lady from the Walgreen check-out...and she's still on the phone.
It use to irritate me to see kid's in the toy aisle playing on the floor with the display toys (I never let my boys carry on like that). Nowadays I get the toys for them that they can't reach. They really appreciate the help. I'll even direct them to the battery aisle.
Like Jimmy says "Then the young girls asked how things are, now they ask how things were."
Damn.
As I age, I have observated some grey in my beard.
As I age, I look at young men differently... I have daughters!
As I age, I long for a nice party barge, and about a week off every month, to fish.
🙂
N
you have reached the Summit when you find yourself groovin to Tom Jones and Rod Stewart for the first time in your life
Those cute young things are your granddaughter's classmates.
Your adult children decide it is finally safe to tell you much of what they really did while in high school that you didn't know about.
The ages of far too many listed in the obituary column of the local paper are younger than you. (Lost a buddy a couple of days ago who was two years younger than me to bladder cancer.)
You remember both wrist watches and pocket watches and non-digital clocks everywhere.
You know the difference between a beatnik and a hippie.
When you were a teenager you didn't want a new Mustang, GTO, Camaro or Roadrunner because they hadn't been produced yet.
You look at a newborn baby and think back to seeing it's great-great-great grandma back when you were a little kid.
You remember your parent's telephone ring being two longs followed by one short.
You remember the smell of the family outhouse on a hot day in August.
You have given up on Santa giving you anything for Christmas because YOU ARE SANTA CLAUS.
carry a magnifying lens in your pocket
Guilty!!!
:good:
When I was a child there were no such things as battery powered toys. All were human powered. Wagons, bicycles, skateboards.
And multi-player games were yard football or baseball. With the occasional game of tag around he house with a tennis ball. Probably still have a few bumps from some of those games.
We had 8 neighbors all on the same phone. You listened to your ring and learned not to divulge any gossipy things because for some reason the entire neighbord would find out within minutes.
This coming from a young whipper snapper, but how can you be too old to not want one of these ....
I am still waiting for the day that I will be old enough to be able to afford it.
When I was a teenager a female friend (alas, she wasn't a "girlfriend") had a '66 Mustang with a 289 and a 4-speed. I spent what seemed like a lot of time in that car, and thereafter kept the idea of buying one tucked in the back of my mind. When I was 31 I finally bought one, a '65 Prairie Bronze original-owner A-code GT. I paid $3,600 for it. I rebuilt the motor (100-octane leaded gas was getting hard to find), put in a rear stabilizer bar, and got it repainted. It was plenty of fun to drive, but much to my disappointment it didn't make me a teenager again.
I kept that car for about 12 years, but drove it increasingly less as time went by. In the last few years I probably only took it out twice a year. When I got married and we moved to a house that didn't have room for my wife's car, my pickup and the Mustang, I sold it. The buyer gave me $7k in $100 bills. We had plenty of cash for our honeymoon!
Lesson learned: you can't go home again.
Not going home. Just a cool car. In 1964, my father was still in grade school. But I do see your point and agree 100%.
You remember the smell of the family outhouse on a hot day in August
For sure, used the outhouse and the Sears Catalog as a toe head. Harry the Dirty Pig was friend for the summer (happy) and food for winter (sad). Mom using the 12ga to keep hawks from the chickens was always a treat. Roosters attacking when fetching the eggs. Grasshopper hunting with BB guns. Riding bike around the section picking up bottles for pocket change, then riding 2 miles to the closest country store to spend it all on penny candy and a nickel for a soda. Pulling weeds was daily assignment for summer vacation, and it best be done before Dad got home from work. Digging worms and going fishing. Walking step by step behind Dad jump shooting pheasants in the field across the road. Cutting asparagras in the morning before the school bus came. Horse bite. Milk the mouse. Snipe hunts. Dad gives you a sip of homebrew if you pester him enough. Mom screams protest. Leads to getting drunk on whisky, cops come, run out into a field, trip and fall, pass out, but make it back home at daylight, AND GET AWAY WITH IT!!!
