On the Right Side of the Sod

I’m older than dirt, but at least I’m not under it

Photo by Possessed Photography on Unsplash

Well. Here we are, on the 68th anniversary of my arrival on this small blue planet. Happy birthday to me.

I am trying not to feel like the oldest cookie in the jar, but it’s hard. My brother, who is far wiser, more optimistic, and more upbeat than I am, keeps reminding me that we still have a lot to look forward to in this life. He’s older than me, so I should listen to him.

I know he’s right. I am actually a pretty happy person overall. I know how lucky I am, I know that spring is coming.

Still.

I feel as if I went to school with Methuselah, you know?

Why do I feel old?

Well, in the first place in the year I was born, Elvis had his first hit (Heartbreak Hotel). Elvis.

I’m the same age as the first hard disc ever made and the very first soap opera ever produced. The top song that year was Dean Martin’s “Memories Are Made of This.” For goodness sake, I’m the same age as rock n’ roll.

When I was born, phones had rotary dials and hung on the wall. Women wore dresses to go outside and “housecoats” to stay at home. That was the year that the presidential campaigns of Dwight Eisenhauer and Adlai Stevenson began.