Old

It has happened. The moment of self evaluation has arrived and I am convinced without a doubt that I am now, as of yesterday, officially and unarguably....old.

Typically this realization comes with a massive flip of the birthday odometer...where all the 9's line up and then BAM! You're into the next group of hundred-thousands. However, I have recently passed one of these age mile markers with few ill effects.

Sometimes, it may occur as you recognize a physical change (or worse - someone else recognizes it)! Maybe the hair line is starting to retreat. It could be a rounder middle or some grey moving into various body hairs. In fact, the entire machine itself could break down in some capacity. You realize - thru injury or complete exhaustion that you ain't the one you use to be.

All normal and acceptable acknowledgements of maturity...

My experience was far different and much more insidious.

I was finishing a nice bike ride in and about our small community...a Mayberryish tour passing businesses and thru neighborhoods. Reaching a large park where some of our future Major Leaguers were practicing the long ball, I noticed a ball over the fence and near the road. I stopped, picked up the ball and then - in the most grandpaish, AARP discount carded fashion you could ever imagine, tossed it back over the fence, underhanded.

Underhanded.

What a complete wimp. When did I start throwing underhanded? What's wrong with me? I couldn't muster up enough adult manhood to make a simple grownup baseball throw? I couldn't pull back and let one rip - even if I had to throw my arm out in the process?!

I quickly looked around to see if anyone had seen me do this. I fully expected a sit-com laugh track to play due to my slapstick impersonation of someone without an ounce of youthful athleticism left in them. I'm surprised I wasn't wearing navy blue dress socks with some all white Reebok's. Or maybe I had my hearing aid turned down so low I couldn't hear the populace ridiculing my performance. Do they sell arm Viagra?

But there I was, back on my bike, riding home, the one who thought he was still cool. Thinking he was Andy Griffith, but discovering he might be closer to Mattlock. Watch out for me on the road. I'll be the one who has had the turn signal on for the last 3 miles.

Ivan L