Here’s How Old I Am

If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, then is age in the heart of the beheld? (Or, you’re as old as you feel.) I’m 66.  When I look out and think about people who are 66, I think, “Wow. That’s really getting on in years, isn’t it.” But when I think about myself, I think, “Sixty-six. Not so bad.” Or else I’m thinking, “Sixty-six!! Ollie, Mollie, Gollie! How did this happen?

Here’s how old I am: My hands and feet have gotten really old.

Here’s how old I am: I am married to someone who is seventy years old! Seriously!

Here’s how old I am: I take tons of medicine. (Let me point out that my mother-in-law, who is 93, takes nothing. So, it’s not necessarily age working here.)

Here’s how old I am: Everything takes me two or three times longer to do. Laundry, housecleaning, reading, knitting, sewing, yard work, thinking.

Here’s how old I am: I don’t really like some of the newer television programs. I remember when my parents didn’t like watching some of the shows we watched at our house, which we found hilarious, and they found annoying and silly, like Gilligan’s Island and All in the Family. For example, my sons really like The Simpsons. I’ve never developed a fondness for the show, even though some of the characters’ names end up in my crossword puzzles, and I don’t have any idea and have to wait until I can fill in the other words around them to know what they are.

Coloring books for my age group are in vogue and available from book stores, discount stores, and probably the grocery store. (There’s even a coloring newsletter.)

Speaking of grocery stores, I remember when there was a store for groceries and a store for medications and a store for tires. Now you can get all that at the same place. And I can remember, since it wasn’t all that long ago, that you had to purchase film for your camera, snap your photos, (with a flash bulb attached if you want to take photos indoors), remove the exposed film, and take it to someplace like Walgreens to be developed. And then you took the photos home and planned to put them in a photograph album. Maybe you did put them in the album and maybe you didn’t, but you planned to.

Here’s how old I am: A couple of weeks ago, I was determined to get the laminating machine at church threaded and working again. Because I NEEDED to get some things laminated and it’s so much faster than trying to cover things with clear contact plastic. I went to our resource room and was immediately stymied by a missing piece from the front of the machine. I couldn’t locate it and gave up and went to ask a young staff member if she could help me find it. She obliged and did indeed find it, and together we set to work to get the two plastic film rolls threaded through the working part of the laminator. Without luck. She brought in her laptop and we found a YouTube video showing what to do. We tried and tried and tried and tried. Without luck. We searched the area around the machine, and she found the instruction booklet. We followed the instructions, which were identical to the video. Still no luck. As we worked, I said, “We could make a video about how to thread a laminator. But it would be the Laurel and Hardy version of how to thread a laminator.

A moment of silence. Then she quietly said, “I don’t know who Laurel and Hardy are.”

Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy made movies from 1931 until the year after I was born. So, I never saw their movies in theaters. But, I did know who they were, seeing clips of their movies, I guess, in the afternoons, after school. My sons certainly know who they are, but I have to remind myself that they are somewhat older that our young staff member. That’s how old I am. I work with people who don’t know who Laurel and Hardy are. Well, she does now.