It’s Just a Number

Just finishing my birthday  It was a good day. I didn’t have to work, and just did some personal errands.  Had some birthday cake  at our rehearsal and received the usual age abuse. I’ll refrain from revealing my age. It’s just a number after all.  Right? I said… right?geritol

Lets just say  that certain restaurants offer me a discount. I have mixed feelings about that. The discount is nice, but it means I have to publicly admit that I’m old. I suppose I won’t worry too much until the waitress offers me the discount without me asking for it. Kind of like when the clerk doesn’t card you anymore when you buy beer… only worse.

I just got to where I could accept being older than the President. That was tough, but I remember teasing my dad about getting the discount. Man, what goes around does come around. I just keep repeating to myself, “It’s just a number. It’s just a number. It’s just a number…”

On a related note, we could find Bin Laden if we just put the AARP on the job. Show me someone over 50 they haven’t found.