Vertical is critical!

A photo from July 4, 2010 with old friends.

I know I’m getting old when:


I cry at lots of dumb, nostalgic things that would never have made me cry before. I cry watching “Field of Dreams” and “A League of Their Own” and I don’t care for baseball!

I’m sure that nothing tastes good anymore, certainly not the way things used to taste. My first pizza and my first fast food hamburger were fantastic, of course.

I miss friends and family a lot, when I haven’t missed them for years. (Editors Note: This does not include my immediate family as my oldest son just pointed out to me. My kids and grandchildren are always in my mind.)

I drive a black Cadillac.

I worry about an assortment of things I never worried about like tripping and falling (immediate) and do not worry about acid rain, recycling etc. (Long term)

I keep getting shorter, going from 6’3” to 6’ ¾”.

My feet keep growing, and it’s beginning to scare me. I am considering wearing the shoe boxes!

I have resigned myself to these facts:

I said the other day in the Father William post: All my fantasies of running off with teen queen’s on motorcycles have faded!

I will never become rich.

I will never change careers.

I will never become a movie star, or even a celebrity.

Some of my ailments will never improve.

I now believe that he who wins is he that is still breathing.

Vertical is critical!