By Rosalind Davis
They warned me it would happen, but I refused to
believe. Then one day it came about. It was so stealth, so unassuming, that it
took me by surprise. It was an ordinary Saturday,
two days before my fiftieth birthday. I
went to the mailbox and opened it. There
with the water bill, an advertisement from a local accountant (it is tax time
after all) and an LL Bean catalog, was a piece of mail wishing me a “Happy
Birthday”. The return address indicated
it was from Washington, D.C.
Interesting. Was it from the
President? Perhaps my local
representative? I was excited. Up until this point the only birthday card
that came for me was from my Chiropractor.
Carefully I opened it. Then it popped
out like snakes in a can! Slowly,
it dawned on me what the words spelled and they hit me like a two ton hammer: A-A-R-P.
Bxstxrds!
How did they know? Do
they have some sort of old age spy unit out there detecting when the populous turns
50? The mailer was my invitation to join,
and if I join today I receive a free gift.
What is it? A can of strained
peas? A bottle of Geritol? Happy birthday indeed.
So you turned 50, congrats! AARP knows all, and you will join the cult. The travel savings alone may just be worth it. Welcome to your 50's, Ros-i-land! They are a blast of undiscovered youthfulness!
ReplyDeleteThank you Mr. Roth. I have been told that my life is just beginning. Those that told me this have already completed their 50's, so I guess I should mind my elders.
DeleteElder......yeah right. Just a year ahead of you.
DeleteI do feel a bit like the Borg.
ReplyDelete7 of 9.....or perhaps 49 of 50 in your case.
ReplyDelete