When I was 20, nothing existed except “the now”.

When I was 30, I was too important to be concerned with trivial matters, like aging.

When I was 40, thoughts of aging began to creep in; and were rapidly dismissed.

When I was 50, I couldn’t speak the number.

I’m 57 now, and am able to repeat the number with only a slight stammer.

Aging is bizarre, Fellini-esque.  Society, aka younger people, tends to view aging as a disease; smugly firm in the knowledge, “it won’t happen to me”. Well, with a little providential assistance, it will.

I think I’m lucky, despite a few things that a bit of surgery could correct, I’ve aged fairly well.  Trust me, it wasn’t anything I did; we’re talking genetic luck. Hell, I’m lucky I made it through the sixties, with little more than the occasional “sixties moment” memory lapse.

Of course, once you pass a certain point, there are things, unsettling things that, regardless of how well you’ve held up, are inevitable. 

• Don’t pinch the skin on the back of your hand, to see how long it takes to pop back. No one has that much time to spare.
  

• It takes an hour for those “sleep marks” on your face to disappear
  

• Never look down into a mirror.  Your psyche may never recover from the shock of seeing yourself surrounded by that much flesh.
  

• Gum surgery is a given.
  

• Never take the Ann Landers Pencil Test.  The realization that you could carry logs under your breasts isn’t conducive to high self esteem.
  

• When the hairdresser offers a mirror to view the back of your hair, politely refuse, insisting that you trust him, or her, implicitly.  Otherwise, you will invariably catch sight of your profile, and your (how can I be gentle here?) softening chin line.
  

• Small children are drawn to you.  I now understand why old women used to carry hatpins, big ones.
  

• Never, ever, look at yourself from behind in a full length mirror, especially naked.  It’s just not worth it.  Simply adopt a Descartes attitude, “I can’t see it, therefore, it doesn’t exist.”
  

• That one, oddly charming, little hair next to your areola will become lonely, and go forth and multiply.

Lest I sound shallow and negative, there are a million benefits to aging, to offset the few distasteful aspects.

• You can speak your mind.  You’re expected to speak your mind.  It doesn’t matter what you say, it’s automatically taken as “insightful, gleaned from years of experience”.
  

• People ask your advice.  They won’t listen to you, but it’s nice to be asked anyway.
  

• If you’re tired, go ahead, sleep during the movie.  It’s expected.
  

• You can talk to strangers and finally, just be considered friendly, and not a flagrant flirt.
  

• When dining out, you can eat everything on your plate, and still order dessert.
  

I’ve saved the best for last - No one, and I do mean no one, will ever love you as much as your grandchildren. 

Over and above that extraordinary love, there’s an added benefit - that unconditional love and worship will totally, completely and indubitably irritate the living stink out of your children.

Oh yes, truly, revenge is sweet.