Friday, January 18, 2013

The Eyes Don't Have It

This means you're old.
That's it. I knew it was coming. I just didn't know it would hurt this much.

I'm old.

I'm so old that, when I visit pages about trifocals, my AdChoices are about the AARP, hard tack candy, and funeral homes.

I'm so old that, when I come to a heavy door, young women open it for me.

I'm so old that, when I hear loud rock music coming from a car, I wonder how long it's been since the driver has smoked pot.

I'm so old that my co-workers thought a picture of my dad from 1957 was a picture of me when I was younger.

I'm so old that band from my 20s, like Smashing Pumpkins, are considered classic rock. And I didn't even flinch writing that last sentence.

My eyes have stopped working, is my point. The prescription I wear is only 9 months old and it's not working any more. When I have them on, I can see far away great. When I take them off, I see up close great. The problem is, on or off, I can't see well from 1-3 feet from my face. I spend much of my day doing this:

Property of NBC

So thanks to Ben Franklin, I won't have to live the rest of my life blind. Just embarrassed. My pride has taken a significant hit. I still listen to current, lesser-known bands. I still wear current, lesser-known brands. I still splice current, lesser-known strands ... sorry.

I don't feel my age most of the time but I guess my body has decided to take its first steps into my twilight years.

I can fight it to a degree. So I will. I'll continue to stay up on certain trends. I'll keep eating better than I used to, and moving more than I want to. I'll probably buy a Dodge Challenger. (It can't all be healthy.)

The future is really bright, I know. It's just that, sometimes, I can't see it very well.

How about you? What are your plans for fighting Father Time?

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