How Can You Tell When You're Getting Old?

Should I really be posting something about myself? Something personal? Hmmm....

I often say at my age, I say what I want. Often, my big mouth may not serve me well. Especially when I spout off about religion. Often pose the question, Are you a believer? A positive yes response will normally get a, That's too bad.

Back to the old part of this.

Last night had dinner my my friend, Mr. Charlie. For a couple of years or so, we've been meeting at the No Frill Grill and have absolutely perfect service, thanks to Shelby. And, the food is usually pretty good. I can never remember how old he is, though he is younger than I. But, I'm sure he's over 70 (EDIT: Mr. Charlie let me know he's 72).

We swapped old stories. We each had one.

The wind was blowing. Strongly. 
Dang, I look angry or something. 

Mr. and Mrs. C were in London recently. And, they, in addition to using cabs, also rode the buses. Mr. C, said he knew he was old when people started hopping up from their seats and offering them to him. Yes, he told me...I knew I was there...at the gates of oldness (my words).

And, my oldness story. A few days ago, was at my Kroger's (yes, I own stock). I was somewhat bent over looking at the nuts on the bottom shelf.

Sir, may I help you get something?   

I got up and turned. Here was this absolutely plain woman, no make-up, in her 40s or 50s, who was strikingly attractive.

Thanks, ma'am. I greatly appreciate it. I smiled. Maybe you could help me up once I get down.

What a delightful lady....

Yes, Mr. C and I agree we've turned the corner or whatever term you want to use, on being old. We are there.