Every three or four years, when we go to renew our driver's licenses, we get strange questions and looks from the ladies behind the counter. They look at us like we've done something wrong or are trying to get away with something. After you turn 21, why would anyone want to get away with something that makes them older? Growing old is like being increasingly penalized for a crime you haven't committed.
And I don't know how many times in the military when I had to fill out dependent forms for her when I was deploying somewhere that the clerk would think the old man was losing his hearing or mind when he couldn't respond correctly to such a simple question as "your wife's birthdate, not your's, Sir."
Well, let me tell you how our 60th went. First, we went to Wright Patterson to get our retired ID cards...or as I call it, "the you're too old to play anymore" card. But don't get me wrong -- I have looked forward to reaching this age and getting that card for a long, long time. It was kind of a huge benchmark in my life -- that little blue card meant that I had really accomplished something in life that I could be proud of, my parents would have been proud of if they were still alive, and my wife and son, and yes, even my grandson, could be proud of. 39 years of military is something to be proud of. But you know what, when the Air Force Staff Sergeant handed me my card (she must have had the "old filter" on the camera because boy the picture sure makes me look older than I thought I was the night before), I didn't hear any cannons or the roar from a fly-over celebrating this monumental occasion. Not even a bell or a whistle. Oh, well, she had a whole room full of contractors and other military types and their dependents waiting to get their cards done so I just picked up my coat and moved on. Besides, we still had lots more of this day to celebrate.
OK. Off we went, back to town where I dropped my wife off at her car so she could go back to work (Oh, she's not retired yet -- you knew that, right?). By now, it was almost noon, so what the heck -- I thought I would splurge and buy myself lunch. So I went through the drive-thru at Burger King and confidently whipped out my Golden Buckeye card, ordered a #5 (you know -- the "could my butt look any bigger" meal) and felt good about the 10% discount they give to people of our advanced stature in life. From there, I went home to eat lunch with our dog at the kitchen table. It was way too cold to go golfing and besides, I was getting a headache, so I went in and took a nap. Later that night, we went to dinner at Appleby's.
Don't get me wrong, the 60th is a biggie. We usually get presents for each other for our birthdays, but we also like to just buy little things for each other throughout the year -- makes them more special when they are not expected. This year's presents were special though. Pam got me a new tri-band ham radio I had been looking at and they had some gold left over from doing my teeth, so I got her a nice pair of gold ear rings (just kidding about the teeth part).
The phone rang pretty much off the hook with family members calling with assorted genuine, snide and humorous greetings and salutations. And then it was time for bed. Bailey got up on the bed and snuggled up and gave us a big sigh, indicating everything from the perspective of a blind dog was good in life. A little later, Pam was sound asleep, Bailey was snoring and I finished another chapter in a military related book I am currently reading. Lights out.
And now, we're off on year 60, day 1 ... and counting. I think it was Charles Schultz who said, "Just remember, once you're over the hill you begin to pick up speed."
"You know you're getting old when all the names in your little black book have M. D. after them." (Arnold Palmer)
Hooah
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