The AARP and Me

I dashed for the elevator, happy to be done with yet another session of physical therapy on my surgically repaired shoulder. How much longer before my upper body feels normal again? Will I ever be able to play basketball or suffer through yoga or lift a barbell again? What about the basics… reaching for the top shelf of the pantry or exiting the car, without a twinge or a pull or a jolt? I’m 62 years old, and my weekend warrior body has been breaking down for a while now... Has the inevitable finally arrived?

Ever stepped onto a crowded elevator at a medical office complex? As I squeezed onto this one, I snuck a 360-degree glance at my fellow riders… I felt the sting of old age in the faces of every one of them. It also dawned on me; they’re all pretty much the same age as I am, give or take... If I’m feeling the sting of old age in their faces, aren’t they feeling the same sting in mine?

I checked my mailbox when I got home... first time in three days. How many of us make a point to check our mailbox every day? It’s not like it used to be, when checking the mailbox carried with it a hint of anticipation, maybe even excitement. Nowadays (nobody under 40 even knows this word) it’s nothing but solicitations and coupons, for items and places we neither need nor want. No check from Publisher’s Clearing House… no reconciliation attempt from a long-lost love… no honorary degree from the school of life. Wait… what’s this? My monthly AARP magazine has arrived. As if I wasn’t feeling old enough already.

My dad loved the AARP. He was an older dad for that generation, having me when he was 40. From the age of 10 on, I was fed a steady diet of praise and kudos for the AARP. He read the monthly magazine cover-to-cover, clipping and filing articles of interest. He encouraged friends to join and chortled with glee every time his membership provided a discount. “Great information. Great advice! Great deals!” Yeah Dad, but it’s for… old people.

Fast forward to becoming old people. I signed up for the AARP the day I became eligible. It’s a fine organization, with nothing but the best of intentions… but truth be told, I mostly signed up out of respect for my dad. He died when I was just a few months shy of turning 50. He would’ve gotten a real kick out of seeing his angry cynic of a son pulling an AARP membership card out of his cell phone wallet.

"Four Ways to make your money last a lifetime": My money barely makes it thru the month.

"Sweepstakes scams are back": All due respect, you must be a bit of a moron to fall for these scams.

"Middle age: Where attitude is everything": Attitude is everything? Now I’m really in trouble.

My dad always meant well… and clearly, so does the AARP. Hell, I just saved 30% on a new pair of glasses at Lens Crafters! But it’s still for old people, and too much of me simply isn’t ready to surrender… no matter how well I might’ve blended in on that crowded elevator this morning.