2020 Election
Today is National Voter Registration Day!
We made it easy for you to exercise your right to vote!
Register Now!

getting old

Start Managing Your Health as a Business Asset I recently found out that I'm vitamin-D deficient and that I'm losing bone
My Boston Terrier, Ma'amie, is 14.5 years old. If you know about dogs, then you know that this is actually quite old for a Boston Terrier. Up until a year ago, it was difficult to guess her age. Yes, she went prematurely grey, but she's been an athlete her whole life, and her passion for the tennis ball fueled her energy.
When you're 30, you're the star of your life, the universe revolving around you for your viewing pleasure. Life is about the next job, who you're going to love, friends or couples you click with, where you're going to eat. Flash forward a decade or two and you're knee deep in marriage and children and mortgages.
Exactly three years ago, my uncle Morris passed away in Dallas at age 103 plus a few months. He never expected to live that long -- does anyone? But he did, and was alert until his very final days. This happened just as I was giving myself an 80th birthday party in New York.
I have a solemn confession to make. In a couple months, I am turning 50. Even as I type this I'm imagining anyone affiliated with my career making a frantic dash for my computer. 'You work in television, you can't admit that! Quick, say that you're turning 8. Or that you haven't been born yet.' Please.
My mind doesn't understand that I'm 52-years-old. It still feels 31. My body, however, is fully aware of the number of years it's lived. There are things I'm too old for. Here are eight of them.
How do you know when you're old? None of my peers seem to know they're old. Even after they see their wrinkles and gray hair, whine about arthritic pain and celebrate another monumental birthday, all I ever hear them say is, "I'm getting old." They don't get the connection between those old age signs and actually being old.
When I was 16, I tried to act as if I was 21. When I was 21, I tried to act 30. When I was 40, I tried to act 30 again. When I was 60, I realized I could act any damn age I wanted to!
Instead, I took to heart what she said. I am really old, to her very young eyes. And it appears she does not carry the same judgment in saying so that I do in hearing so. I've lived on this planet -- I've thrived on this planet -- for a long time.
HuffPost Comedy Editors Carol Hartsell and Katla McGlynn spend all day looking at funny things on the Internet. Now, they
The next time you're in a coffee shop, don't overlook that 70-year-old sitting in the corner reading Dickens, Hemmingway, or maybe even a copy of The Transhumanist Wager. That senior citizen with their years of wisdom and experience might soon be fair game for a love interest.
Michelle Obama turned 50 recently. And while everyone was saying, 'Oh, isn't it great, Michelle Obama is 50!' I was looking in the mirror saying, 'I'm older than the president's wife?!?' For the first time in my personal history, the first lady is younger than I am. And that's not sitting very well with me.
Please ignore the egregious error being perpetrated by that nasty little website, Facebook. The folks at Facebook decided to send around a message to all my friends this week claiming that I have turned 49.
We don't know how to be with this body as it is. It's written off as gross, old, icky because we only live with it in comparison to the way we looked in the past.
"Getting old is wonderful," my neighbor Robert Akeley told me with a smile, his blue eyes lighting up, when I asked him for the single most important message he'd like to pass on to Huffington Post readers.
In my experience, every single person who has mastered the great art of successful aging has had an inner grit. Not necessarily with any bravado or flourish, but with a steely determination to look loss straight in the face without blinking.
OK, you just bought a jar of kosher pickles and you're dying to put one on the burger you just barbecued. You should be able to just unscrew the lid easily, remove the juicy pickle from its briny bathwater and slap it on the meat. This used to be easy. Not anymore.