mold school

So, I was having a conversation with my only reader the other day (I won't reveal their identity, but let's just say it was a person who gave birth to me) and we were discussing some telltale signs of getting older. When a guy gets really old, for example, he starts to look and sound like Andy Rooney and shake his fist furiously at whippersnappers cutting through his acreage.

But what about the earlier transition from young person to middle aged? Sure, there are physical signs like the strangeness of seeing your father in the bathroom mirror one day or even the double whammy of finding a gray hair...in your ear. But what about the social situation where you realize you've gotten old(er). Here's one.

Awhile ago, I was accompanying my wife as she shopped for clothes (yes, it's already a dismal life situation). However, in a desperate attempt to cling to some youth cred, I ducked out and headed a few storefronts down the strip mall to play some of that guitar game at the video game store. So, I was rockin' out (do the kids still say that?) in the middle of an Aerosmith jam when I was rudely interrupted with a call of, "Sir?" Ouch - Sir. The handwriting's on the wall at that point...and the letters are shaky due to arthritic hands. Anyway, if this weren't bad enough, I was being hailed because a lady had found a $20 bill on the floor, brought it to the clerk's attention and they were asking if I had dropped this cheese. And what did I respond in that split second: "Duh, no." Man, that's weak: a hip, young person knows that you claim money first and ask questions never. But my first instinct was to tell the truth and make the prudent choice. I'm disgusted at myself, too.