Hump year

These last few days marks a monumental  year in my life. I remember years ago doing the math to see how old I would be when the twenty-first century came in. I thought that was going to be old. In fact, it was anything but, and now the next decade and a half is rolling along.

I have always joked that middle age is ten years older than whatever age I was. That's sort of hard to do at this point. Even I can't believe sixty-six would be considered middle-aged. It was good for a laugh and it worked for years, but it seems that I must once and for all face the facts. Middle age has caught up to me (assuming I'm going to die at 112 years of age).

I must now admit, I am one year past the 'hump year', the double-nickle, the Nixon speed limit. I have crossed over the hill and I sit perched looking at the downward side, one step beyond its crest. It's a steep drop, a long slide down. But you know what? I've decided to go down at a run. Life takes each one of us on a differing path. Some struggle more than others, and though I have had several bumps along the way, I decided years ago I would not live a life of fear.

So bring it on; bring on the 'old guy' problems. Let the AARP do their best to chase me down the streets. I plan on staying one step ahead. If my brothers and cousins can do it, so can I.

Now, where do I sign up for that Golden Buckeye Card?