Tag Senior Citizen

All Downhill from Here

Michael 10 Comments

I know I haven’t lived the most exemplary life, but even by my standards, this just isn’t fair. It’s because I still read the paper.

Yesterday’s Sunday paper, the big one for the week, the one with all the features and ads that get in your way of finding Saturday’s scores and the comics. That one. The one that published this year’s first ski report. Yeah. It’s skiing time.

I guess that shouldn’t be so shocking. It was only 14 degrees Friday night. (That’s in Fahrenheit here. Using my handy dandy conversion calculator I make it that would be -10 Celsius. Oh, that sounds even colder.) Plenty cold enough for either the natural or manufactured variety of ski powder, and there were both in the mountains. Not shocking nor unfair.

The shocking part…the price of lift tickets. Here a weekend ticket is going for better than $200. That’s not close to a weekend at say St. Regis but a far cry from the $49 that is cost when I was half my current age. But the reality is that a Big Mac has gone up over 200% in 30 years also. So, shocking but not not fair.

skier

Image by Lakeshore Learning via Pinterest

The unfair part is the discounts. I don’t mind seeing the young ones getting their 20% or so off the adult prices and that kids under 5 ski free. I applaud that they recognize that seniors might still want to tackle the slopes and give them a full half off the regular prices. That’s very fair. Especially as one pending seniordom I relish on finally collecting the perks. The unfair part is that I can’t yet and won’t for years! Why? Because their idea of senior doesn’t start at 55 with one’s newly acquired AARP card. It’s not at 60, a nice round number, or at 62 which seems to have become the new standard for discounts announced right about the time I turned 60. It’s not even 65 which is what most places will consider reasonable for a senior discount right around the time I’ll turn 62. Nope, their idea of senior is 70. Yes, if you are between 70 and 79, you can ski at any of the area ski resorts for 50% off the regular adult rate.

Oh, what happens after 79? I’m glad you asked. At 80, you can ski free. Really. If you can manage to remember where you put your skis you can use them to your hearts content. Or its stoppage, whichever comes first.

Aged to Perfection (?)

Michael Leave a comment

I think I’m getting older. No, not old age older but things are starting to take on a more senior disposition than, oh let’s say 2 or 3 months ago.

I noticed it while sitting at a stop sign waiting to make a left turn. And waiting, and waiting, and waiting some more. It was but a couple of months ago that I would have edged my way in as long as I had a one or two car length head start on that truck barreling through the intersection. And even though I came to complete stops, signaled for turns, and stayed right except to pass, I was decidedly brusque in my driving.

What I was driving is another sign of the years creeping up on me. After 30 years of trucks and SUVs I have made my primary ride a mid-size, American sedan. In dark blue even. What’s next, a full-sized Cadillac registered in Florida?

I stopped for breakfast at a nearby diner. The waitress took orders from the trio sitting at a nearby table. “I’ll put that right in,” she said and turned to the nearby kitchen door and delivered the order to the probably nearby cook. I know she was being polite and efficient but did she really need to tell the table that she would be putting their order in immediately? It was breakfast. Nobody was having cocktails or appetizers. If not “right in” when would she place the order? After the lunch rush? It was just a little thing but I ruminated on that for the rest of my eggs. Now that’s something only an oldster would do.

But what really concerns me about the impending golden years are my pants. These are the same pants I’ve worn for the past several weight changes. They are worn in the same manner – put on one leg at a time and pulled to my waist where they are secured with a belt. Just like everyone else. They look just fine standing up. But when I sat down this morning I felt them creep up my front until the belt was halfway between my shoulders and my waistline. Does this mean it’s only a matter of time until I’ll have to open my fly to scratch my neck? How did that happen? I didn’t buy those pants that way. They betrayed me!

I suppose I should just face it. I’m getting older. Thank Heaven I’m not getting more mature.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?