Time Will Tell

I have always had an unusual relationship with my age. My age and I never seemed to quite fit each other.I started walking, running, reading, writing, and riding at ages much earlier than would be considered normal. When I was a young politician I could not wait to be at least forty so that newspaper articles about me would start off with something besides how young I was. At age 29, when I first began to have serious problems with my back, the doctor told me that I had the spinal column of a 60 year old man. As a teenager my closest friends were old men who were veterans of the civil rights movement of the fifties and sixties. Today my closest friends are between twenty and thirty years younger than me.

Essentially, for all of my life I have never been my age. However, I have kept going fine with this peculiar dichotomy being only a slight irritant, not a real problem. But it seems now that I am daily hit in the face with whether or not I am acting my age.

Those with whom I went to school seem older than me, but not that much older. Those five to ten years older than me look ancient to me. I have to admit that I do not feel as old as I must be.

Maybe this is why--looking over the records for the last two months I learned that I spent just over 60 hours in the saddle in October and 51 hours in September. Such activities encourage circulation of the blood, it seems.

But to further add to my confusion, it appears that this computer thinks that I am older than I feel. The spam that I get is aging rapidly. Until very recently, something kept sending me spam about "Hot chicks in your neighborhood." This morning my spam was an advertisement about assisted living for the elderly. The change in spam was that quick and startling. No effort was made to slowly ease me into accepting my age. Perhaps, it would have been better to have received an interim set of spams suggesting "Hot chicks in your neighborhood to provide assisted living for the elderly." But no. It appears that time waits for no man.

(In case you missed the central point of this discussion--I SPENT OVER 100 HOURS IN THE SADDLE OVER THE PAST TWO MONTHS. Take that, Father Time)