Am I what?!

I've decided to own up to my wicked past. Once, when I was at the tender age of thirteen, I snuck into a movie rated fourteen and over. Whew, I feel so much better getting that off my chest, the guilt has been crushing me all these years.

The success of my early teen subterfuge led to a few repeat offences in later years, most involved gaining access to certain establishments wherein minors where not permitted. I often boasted that these escapades were achieved without the benefit of a Hawaii driver's license with the name McGlovin. This still amazes me, particularly now when I look at old photos on myself as a teenager. Either the bouncers of that era suffered from some serious form of visual impairment or they just thought that anyone looking like I did, who had the cohones to think he could fool anyone into thinking that he was even close to adulthood, was worthy of a free pass. Regardless, my record stood for all these years: I've never been carded.

All of that came to a sad and disturbing end last evening whilst standing at the cash of a local discount store, who shall remain nameless (it begins with 'Z'). The cashier rang up my order...okay I'm dating myself, nobody rings up orders anymore, scanned is probably the term. At any rate, the cashier gave me the total and then asked a question that so stunned me, I had to ask her to repeat it.

So she did. "Are you 55 or older?"

Now, we've probably all, at one point in our lives, asked a question only to find ourselves wishing we had never opened our mouths, and then spent the rest of the day trying to invent a flux capacitor to travel back in time and repair the damage.

Questions like:

"How's the wife?" Reply: "We're divorced."
"How's business?" Reply: "We went bankrupt."
"How's your crazy dad?" Reply: "He's dead."

And the grandaddy of them all,
"When are you due?" Reply (wait for it): "I'm not pregnant."

Asking the question, "Are you 55 or over?" and overshooting the estimate by ten years, ranks pretty high in the inglorious anthology of regrettable questions.

For the record, I am NOT 55 or older. Middle aged, I suppose, but NOT 55.

In all honesty, I've never been too hung up on my age. In spite of a few unwelcome aches and pains, I still feel like I did in my twenties. My memory is the same as always, that is to say it's always been this bad. And I still don't know what I want to do with my life, even though I'm married with kids, a mortgage and a career.

As for a mid-life crisis, so far I haven't felt compelled to run out and buy a Harley or a Mustang, jab botox into my brows or audition for lead singer of a rock band (although, considering Mick Jagger's advanced age, I'd be a junior candidate).

That said, being asked if one is 55, by a discount store cashier, who by the way I'm certain was older than myself, was a fairly powerful blow to the ego. Not that there's anything wrong with being 55, just like there's nothing wrong with being a little overweight and not pregnant, of which I once again remind you am neither 55 nor pregnant. I'm just not ready to be 55 yet. I'm not even ready for 45, and that one's a lot closer.

Maybe it's just karmic justice for all those times when I was wasn't carded. Ironically, after finally being asked if I was old enough I was happy to say no.

All this to say, I'm okay with my age, and I suspect I'll be okay if I make it to 55 (which, if my investments continue their stellar performance, will be anything but Freedom 55). I've made it this far in one piece, with plenty of experiences, both good and bad to serve as a guide for whatever happens next. My life is great. I have two amazing sons, a wonderful, caring, and if I might add, beautiful wife, a home we love, with great neighbours, and a job where I work with a dedicated and fun group of people. Every day I am reminded of how truly fortunate I am.

So, at the end of the day, who cares if someone thinks I'm 55? I'm not going to let such trivial things define who I am, or derail me from pursuing just and humane aspirations.

Does anyone know when the Harley dealership opens?