Welcoming the age of the adventurous

I find that I’m becoming old. That is to say, a very different thing than aging. Aging is when the body begins to break down from all of the abuse and oversight of youth… becoming old is when in the midst of a conversation you hear the words of your parents coming out of your mouth. On those rare instances when you catch yourself it can be startling… ‘Did I really just say that?’

I’ve found myself telling my kids that I remember a time BEFORE the Internet, when there was no such thing as pausing live TV, and a trip to McDonalds occurred once a year… when the shamrock shake was available. But, really, I do remember those times… Oh, and cell phones were called bricks because they REALLY were that big. Email wasn’t commonplace, and people could and still DID write in complete sentences. There. Don’t you feel old too?

Given the rate upon which the kids are driving me to crazytown, I figure that I’ll be in a rocking chair on the front porch smoking a cigar, drinking a martini and complaining about ‘kids these days’ by the time I’m 48. That’s really not that far into the future.

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