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.