What’s in a number? If it’s your age, it can be a lot

FATHER’S DAZE
Emmitt B. Feldner  for The Review

I have to start this week’s column with an apology to my two youngest grandsons.

It seems I tried to make both Aiden and Nolan a year younger than they really all – I said they were four years old in my last column, when they’re actually both five.

And Aiden will be turning six in less than a week.

Just blame it on their grandfather’s creeping senility – although some does, it seems to be galloping more than it’s creeping.

There will come a time, I’m sure, when both of them will be wanting to subtract a year – or more – from their age, but that time isn’t yet.

For their grandfather, however, that time has probably long passed already.

I could try subtracting a year – or more – from my age, but I would probably have a hard time getting anybody to buy it.

That’s because, among other things, I usually give away my age every time I open my mouth.

For instance, when you’re the only one in a discussion of “Mad Men” who actually can remember all the current events represented in the show, it’s probably a good idea to keep your mouth shut about that.

Of course, all the nostalgia channels on cable are filled with programs and series that I watched the first time around – I’ve resigned myself to that.

But when those same nostalgia channels start showing programs that I didn’t watch when they were first on because I was too old to get them back then, then I know I’m really getting old.

I am of a generation that was convinced we would never grow old – boy, were we ever wrong.

I suppose every generation feels that way when they’re young and foolish – they soon learn better when they get old and fooled.

Now I get to take some small pleasure in noting all of my former high school classmates I’m now friends with on Facebook hitting their birthday ahead of mine and being a year old than me – if only for a few days or weeks or months.

Hey, at my age, you have to take whatever little pleasure you can wherever or however you can.

The other side of that is that I’ll be hitting another birthday soon and then there will be a whole bunch of my classmates who haven’t hit their birthday yet who will be able to take delight in being a year younger than me – for whatever that might be worth.

And no, I’m not saying how old I will be on my next birthday – that way I don’t have to try adding or subtracting anything to or from my age, as if I could get away with it if I tried.

In the meantime, I’ll give Aiden and Nolan back that year I took away from them last week.

After all, it won’t be all that long before they’ll probably both be trying to add a year or two – or more – to their age for various reasons.

Ah yes, the good old days.


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