These are the people whose hair turns silver-white but stays thick and stylish. These are the people whose wrinkles form lines of kindness, wisdom and a certain dry, professorial wit.
These are the people who look kinda cool in reading glasses.
I think my retirement mornings are far more likely to be a symphony of grunts, groans, crackling joints and bodily emissions. Realistically, Jackie's greeting will probably be something like "Jesus, Tim! What did you eat last night?"
Kill me now. I'm not even balding with style.
And so, after finding myself wobbling back and forth like a monk at prayer to find the focal sweet spot at the computer screen, after holding my iPhone halfway to my knees to see the text, I did what I had to do. I plunked down $19 at Walgreen's for a pair of reading glasses.
I was kinda hopeful at first that the 1.00 was going to be the price, not the "power." Now I actually know what the different numbers mean. I didn't want that information in my brain. A line has been crossed.
I know. I know. Welcome to Club Middle Age.
Hmmm. How do I spell ppppttthhiiipppppt!