How do you know you're a geezer? If I had a nickel for every time I was asked this, I'd have a...oh, never mind.
I can only address my own personal journey to self-awareness of my own geezer potential. This doesn't cause me alarm; I've been preparing for the rocking chair since I was a tot. Lately, however, I've had several clues that indicate geezerdom may be nearer than I thought.
- I'm the Indiana Jones of cholesterol numbers on food labels.
- I'm starting to get hip to the geezer lingo. Yesterday, I stated "my sciatica is acting up" just like a real person.
- Though I was outraged to get AARP pamphlets in the mail at the age of fifty, I'm even more ticked off now that I actually read them.
- Our church has an elevator that was made possible by a generous donation from the estate of a beloved member. Her picture hangs near the elevator. When my knee/hip hurts, I kiss the picture...with gratitude.
- Music has always been a passion of mine and I love that my youngest son and I get in very deep conversations about the best bands of each decade. We carefully lay out all the pros and cons, and mentally discuss our own battle of the bands or whether or not Journey belongs in the seventies or the eighties. It makes me feel young. Then I step in the bathroom. The person in the mirror says, "Hey, you can't pull off a rock concert no matter how hard you try, sister." Why do people put mirrors in bathrooms anyway? I don't need that kind of negativity at my age; way harsh. Why am I talking to the bathroom mirror? Oh, I'm talking to you. Sorry, my bad.
- When someone on the television talks about Alzheimer's Disease or senile dementia, I really listen to the symptoms. First, I think about how many of the symptoms I might have then I give Hubzam the once over. It's gonna be a close race and the winner won't know they have won, I'll wager. After all, I have been planning to yack at him till one of us kicks the proverbial bucket. He wouldn't begrudge me sizing up the situation (I think).
- My friend was complaining that her granny smelled like lineament. My brain immediately went to the thought: "I wonder if that stuff works?"
- A commercial came on with the fancy, schmancy tub that you sit in. It has a side door and jets to massage every achy part of a person. I googled it with a variety of search terms. The word handicapped kept coming up. Geez, Louise! I just wanted to know how much it cost, people! Now I think Google has copped an attitude with me (and by the way, I'm not the only one who is obsessed with tubs - see tomorrow's post!).
- Hubzam is complaining that I can't hear, or come here or something about a clamped rear. I'm not sure and he won't repeat it.
- I'm not paranoid, but I am certain that Hubzam is mumbling and speaking in a low tone just to make me think my hearing is going bad.
- Paranoia may be one of those symptoms of dementia, but I can't figure out how to blame Hubzam for that one; he probably caused me to not be able to blame him.