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I don't feel, at all, a million years old. I suppose I should. I mean I am on the far side of the halfway point to the century mark. Just barely on the far side. Really. Close enough to see the good side - but, truth be told, if there was a tug of war team - I would have to line up with Raquel Welch and Regis Philben with the over 50 team.
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Which, anyone who knows me, will tell you isn't an age thing. I have retired to the tub with a good book since I was old enough to read paperbacks. I also used to like to finish my tub time, coat the empty tub with soap and slide around for ages. This was probably annoying to all and sundry, but less annoying than having a wide awake young Scooter running around the house refusing to go to bed. It tired me out and let everyone else have a good relax before bed time.
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Also, another aside, my parents never really gave me much of a bed time. Except when my father was married to someone who thought an arbitrary set of clocks hands should drive my sleeping patterns. No, except for Deanna, I was allowed to set my own bed time as long as I woke up on time. True, I was requested to retire to my room to read or watch TV, but once out of the immediate field of vision, I was allowed to read to my heart's content.
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But I digress. Back to tonight's subject.
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So, in the tub, upon gathering myself up and rinsing my hair, I thought, I don't FEEL a million years old. Here I am, just a few years away from the age both my father and grandfather left the earthly plane - and I don't feel anywhere near as old as they were.
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And then I had the most unpleasant thought. What if my father didn't feel old either? I mean that wasn't the unpleasant thought, I rather hope he didn't feel old - what I mean to say is - what if he thought he didn't seem old? Because, trust me, he was old. Oh he still flirted like a pup, but it had segued from youthful charm to rather more ... old creepiness.
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My mother pulls off age inappropriate flirtation much better than my father did - and my mother is much older. I mean - not when they were married - but now. She is older now then he was when he passed on. This makes sense as he passed on last century (1990s you know).
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Although "passed on" is putting it mildly, he was rather pushed off-stage by cancer. He was given the literal 2 month warning, and then hogged the limelight another good two years. Just like my father to overstay a welcome (ask any number of his ex-wives and girlfriends). Although whether to chalk this up to stubbornness on his part, or ineptness on the part of Kaiser Health Care is a question for the ages.
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But I digress. Again.
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I guess it boils down to, I don't feel old. And I don't want to look old.
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So, if you see me, and you think - "Oh my god he looks old" - I grant you preemptive approval to lie to me.
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With that understanding, I may ask the following question. Don't I look cute at the fountain in Montreal?