Over 50

All right, I'll admit it. The reason the Princesses were here was to help Aunt WiseWoman celebrate her 50th birthday. Not that I feel a day over 25, but my passport says that 50 years have passed since I was born.

It was a great party, and I could answer to everyone that I didn't feel different than the night before (although I was kinda feeling crazy that night and really happy that a friend congratulated me on Skype at 0:01).

But since then - wow. Must be that I am attuned to picking up on stuff now or something. Just in the past week I have had the following encounters:

  • Last evening in Sweden we went out to dinner with the Princesses. My brother is much younger than I am, I used to delight in pretending that he was my child, which really irritated my mother. He also looks much younger than his years, and we look very similar. His girls are also obviously his girls, and the middle one could pass for me, about 46 years ago. We were settling down in the restaurant when the waitress beamed at me: are these your grandchildren? Arrrrgh! No! My nieces! I'm not that old! But of course, it would be possible for me to have a 6-year-old grandchild at 50. Irritated me just the same.
  • I teach beginning programming, and had fired up a program to demonstrate the use of exceptions that I wrote 3 years ago. Just a silly little program that throws an exception when the input integer value, which represents an age, is greater or equal to a constant called OVER_THE_HILL. I had set this value to 50 for some reason.... I quickly changed it to 60, muttering something incomprehensible to my freshmen.....
  • A colleague came into my office, beaming, that his project had been chosen by a funding authority for further consideration. He was going to be doing research on doing X for senior citizens. He called his project X-50+ ....... Heck, I'm 50 and I love to do X!
  • My sister-in-law picked up a trial package of some anti-wrinkle cream, not that she needs yet. It was called WiseWoman.....
Then I played beach handball last Wednesday, couldn't climb stairs all day Thursday. I guess I need a how-to manual on growing old gracefully. I am beginning to understand Dylan Thomas, "Do not go gentle into that good night".

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