PhilYouIn.com

• artist: CliffBlank

Kids are taught that there is no such thing as a stupid question. That questions are inherently smart. When I was a kid and I asked a question, the response was usually something like, “Shutup, stupid.”

So I basically stopped asking.

Now that I am old, people stop what they are doing to be certain to give me a thoughtful, adequate, detailed response. Do you know what those white police cars are called? The cars with no decals on the hood or trunk, and no lights on the roof? I do. I asked a cop. What about the machines on those tripods that surveyors use? What do they see through those things? I can tell you!

When I was a kid, I always thought how cool it would be to be older. I could not wait! I want to drink a soda? I can go buy one! I want potato chips for breakfast? No problem! Go to bed whenever I damn please. Watch television for as long as I want (sadly, all my tastes changed when I got old. But that is not the point!).

Well, it took over 60 years, but I finally made it! And although it’s nice to wake up whenever I feel like it and get some respect from people, it can sometimes get a bit weird.

I find people too eager to laugh at my jokes; sometimes they start before I even finish! And if I ask an item’s whereabouts in the supermarket, the response always ends in ‘sir.’ Sometimes I am actually escorted to the item, as if speaking loudly enough for me to hear the directions would just be too strenuous.

I run a few miles, every other day. When I began this routine 40 years ago, I was ignored by the people I passed on my route. My ‘good mornings’ would evaporate with no response. I found it very demoralizing.

When I run now? People go out of their way to say good morning to me! Which is great. What I do not care for are the spontaneous outbursts of enthusiasm I sometimes get. “Wow! Looking GOOD!” Sometimes it’s “Go! You’re an inspiration!” or even, “Look at you. That’s just great!” It’s even worse when people just start applauding, as if Father Time just tossed aside his crutches and took off.

When I offer a woman my seat on the subway, I am always politely refused. On more than one occasion, I was the one being offered a seat (which embarrasses me, so I have taken to standing against the door).

Usually when we visit the grandkids, our son or daughter will get alarmed if the play gets too rough. The play that I initiate. “Kids! Stop it NOW!!!” Don’t you know how old grandpa is?!!!” The kids back off, frightened. Until their parents leave the room and I tackle them again.

I kind of look forward to snow, because it’s nice to be out in it, plus I have a new shovel. And I really have nothing much else to do anyway. Invariably, though, one of my neighbors beats me to it and does my shoveling for me. And sometimes I find my empty trash cans brought back from the curb on collection day.

When I was young, I had to teach my Mom how to use all the latest technology: cable television. VCRs. DVDs. Push button phones with a speaker! Remote controls! Years later, my kids patiently explained to me how to stream. And download apps. And use Maps and cell phones. I hope they are not feeling as smug as I did. Their day is coming.

I have also learned to use my advancing age to my advantage:

My wife and I drove to Montreal last September. At the border, the guard asked where we lived.

“Brooklyn,” I replied.

“Brooklyn? Then why do you have Oklahoma license plates?!! he asked rather menacingly.

“Oh, this is our son’s car,” I explained. “He lives in Oklahoma. He’ll be driving it there when we get back.”

“So then you are not aware of what is in the vehicle?” he demanded, insinuating all sorts of nasty, illegal stuff.

Time for my confused senior’s status to come to the rescue.

I turned toward the passenger seat.

“Of course I’m aware of what’s in the car. My wife is in the car!” I joked, and Nellie and I both began laughing, if a bit too enthusiastically.

I turned back to the guard, looking pleased with myself.

“Go on,” he said impatiently, the line of cars growing behind me. “Go on. Just get going.”

So, getting old has been pretty cool so far. And I really can’t wait to get even older! I mean, what could possibly go wrong?