Your "Damn, I'm getting old" moment

You wanna feel old? Go break your ankle. That'll do the trick. For the past two weeks, I've been hobbling around on a walker. Crutches are much cooler looking, for sure, but damned if I wasn't afraid of falling over on those sonsofbitches and breaking something else.

I guess my 'old' moment was about four days after that fall on the ice. The only thing worse than not being able to walk is not being able to walk or shit. I have Vicodin to blame for that.

Then my dad, bless his heart for interrupting his life to take care of my crippled ass for the past couple of weeks, bought the fiber pills. And you know what? I did feel pretty damn old after swallowing those big bastards, but a hell of a lot better after three trips to the can the next day.

OK, that was probably too much information, but I'm in this goddamn boot for another four weeks, so to hell with it. I'm just a cranky old fuck, aren't I?

 

At some point you don't feel old anymore.

You're just glad you wake up every morning beside the person you love.

 

When I realized I needed reading glasses.

 

This would do nicely here as well -- especially since I covered him in Class A ball.

 

chicken dinner.

 

I know I'm old because I'm probably one of only a few people on this board who've seen Lyman Bostock play in person. Granted, I was under 10, but I do remember seeing him play and I remember the day he died and how sad my grandfather was because he was a big Angels fan.

 

1978. the big A. the angles were in a pennant race. very pretty red dirt in the infield. carew had like two singles, a double and a coupla runs. the angels won, then fell out of the race like four days later.

 

Tell us another story, Gramps! Do you have any more about the Great War?

 

here's the funny thing: i read your posts on this thread. we are close to the same age. very close.

 

That made me LOL!

I realized I was old when I was asked to speak to an entire 4th grade. A speaker at an assembly?
Dude, that means I'm one of those OLD people.

 

One year the baseball team brought in the No. 1 draft pick to sign his contract. I'm looking past his little high school girlfriend and leering at his mom.

 

My dad once blew out a speaker from playing music too loud. He was in his 50s.

I was chatting with some old friends recently and we got on the subject of one of our high school classmates who had a kid when she was 16; we realized that kid is now college-aged. We're getting old.