It’s The Little Things

Since it seems to be important that everything has a label anymore, I have a question.  How do you define old?  When you look at something or someone, what drives your decision to label it or them “old”.  I guess it is a little easier when you are discussing an object then it is a person, because objects can often be traced to origin and or period.  People not so much.  But that doesn’t stop us folks of an age from being placed in our proper boxes.  The difference is, with people, it’s subjective.  I’ve seen eighty somethings that look sixty and I have seen sixty somethings that look, well, you know, unsixtyish.

I have become more keenly aware of this phenomenon as I have, how should I say this, ‘matured’,  and I have reached some conclusions.  One is that I apparently look older in the grocery store then I do in a restaurant.  Perhaps it is the lighting or something, but I find I can no longer check out of the store without being asked “do you need help out with that”?  I know it is just a courtesy, but it hurts a little when you are only buying a loaf of bread.  Well, and maybe a six pack.   Today when my wife and I shopped and gave the clerk our bags, she asked “how heavy should I make these”.  I told her to take her best shot, my wife is stronger then she looks.   

The same does not hold true in restaurants however.  And it doesn’t make any difference if it is a sit down or drive through.  How do I know this.  It’s easy.  No one has ever ever offered me the senior discount without my asking for it.  It has to be because of my youthful appearance. I did have one young lady ask,  when I ordered an iced tea, if I wanted the senior tea.  Not knowing what that was, I was almost afraid to ask for fear it came in a sippy cup.

Although I am comfortable with my age, I think that I in some ways try to hide it, or at least obscure it.  For instance, I no longer wear my John Denver tee shirt with his picture on the front and “FAR OUT” printed on the back.  I don’t want to take the chance someone will ask me who he is, or was.  My wife also made me get rid of my white shoes and belt.  She did it diplomatically however.  She said “I think it would be a nice gesture if you donated those to a retirement community in Florida.” I hate sarcasm.

I guess it is not so bad, being carbon dated by  the people around me.  After all, I do it too.  I am sure the kids in the grocery store are about twelve or at least still looking forward to puberty and my doctor is not old enough to have completed med school.  But that’s just me.  I try to concentrate on the positive things.  Like the other day when for some reason my check did not clear at checkout the first time and they had to ask to see my drivers license.  As I walked across the parking lot, I had a big smile on my face.  Why you ask? Because I had just been ‘carded’ for the first time in forty years.  Made my day.  Just sayin.








About oldmainer

I am a retired manager living in Southern Maine and a would be writer of poetry, narratives, short stories, and random opinions, and that's how Oldmainer was born. Recently, I decided to try an experiment. I added photography to the mix, using only a cheap cell phone with a limited camera and the editing software that came with it, and added the blog site Inklings at to showcase the results. So, feel free to use whatever you find interesting or worthy, but please honor the terms of my copyright when and if you do. They may not be much, but they are still a piece of me. I appreciate your checking me out and hope that you find something that will encourage a return visit. Thanks for stopping by.
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7 Responses to It’s The Little Things

  1. quiall says:

    Hahahahah. Like fine wine we get better with age! That’s my story and I’m sticking to it!


  2. I don’t mind being my age but I’m not comfortable with what it means. I feel as if I’m 18 and I’m not happy when I can’t do flips, or run forever. I don’t see the point. Not really. Entropy sucks, pun intended. I want to dance for twenty hours and not be tired. My bod has been fabulous and done everything I could have asked of it but when I look in a mirror or, walk by a window, and wonder who I’m looking at…well…arggggggggg!!!!! I think we should stop aging at 23 and then, when we are 90, a switch should be thrown and that’s it. It seems only fair.


  3. George says:

    Lol….very funny. I’ve always been of the opinion that old age is fifteen years older than I am. I’ll stick by that. Congrats on being carded. Good call by your wife to get rid of the white belt and shoes. Those a dead giveaway..:)


  4. oldmainer says:

    I hid my plaid polyester pants in my underwear drawer. I know they are going to come back:)


  5. Sonya Kassam says:

    Well, guess what Bob, I know John Denver! Probably only one song of his …Country Road.


  6. oldmainer says:

    What??? Not Rocky Mountain High??? Far Out:)


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