No one is currently asking to see my birth certificate. Even Donald Trump seems pretty much content to allow the facts of my entrance onto this plane nearly fifty years ago. For the record, I wouldn't dispute the birth of Donald Trump. His hair, maybe, but not the Donald himself.
Which brings me back to the data in front of us currently: Fifty years of Dave. Some days it seems impossible that I have been at this business of life as long as the Beatles have been recording. I came about just about the time that prayer in the classroom was declared unconstitutional. Feel free to make what you want of this synchronicity, but I prefer instead to look at my life as a much larger canvas, spread across six decades. There are plenty of artifacts left from that era, many of which can be found on YouTube. I have arrived at a fairly comfortable acceptance of my age.
Until I opened my mailbox last week and found my membership to AARP. Not just a mass-mailing to "Resident," but a personally addressed envelope with a membership card with my name printed on it. What a great opportunity to take advantage on the travel deals and benefits offered by this august institution. Or not. I'm as pleased as I can be for Bruce Springsteen getting on the cover of not just Time and Newsweek once upon a time, but the AARP magazine a few years back. He's over sixty and all. I'm still lagging behind the Boss. Of course, my knee slide isn't as practiced as his, but I get around all right. I exercise and run with the kids on the yard and ride my bike to work. I also find myself lurching toward the ibuprofen on a little more regular basis. I'm guessing that Bruce might toss back a couple Advil after a three hour show, too.
Am I ready to be a part of the American Association of Retired Persons? Well, not yet. According to the powers that be at the school district, I've got at least ten more years to grab that brass ring of a pension, and I'm guessing it will be more like fifteen before I can truly afford to do just that. And just when I was getting comfortable with that whole "Springsteen is sixty-something," along comes AARP's new spokesmodel: Betty White. I'm not ready for that yet.