Today I have achieved the age of 72. I am not old, though I do make an occasional joke about geezerdom.<\/p>\n
Last week at my regular appointment with my primary care physician, on whom I have a geezerly crush, I was asked if I had fallen in the past six months. I thought of replying, “Only in love with you, my dear,” but I bit my tongue and said merely, “No” as the question required. Later, as I was leaving she flashed me a big grin and averred, “Isn’t it good to get a clean bill of health?” which I interpreted as assurance that I am almost as good as new, youthful ardor and all.<\/p>\n
But yesterday things turned somber. I renewed my driver’s license, since the old one expired today, and was allowed to renew for three years only, because of my advanced age. In addition—I was asked if I wished to become an organ donor. “No,” I said; thinking I’m not quite ready to parcel out my nearly new body parts yet. The young woman behind the counter smiled as she purred, “No problem.”<\/p>\n
Now, I am in favor of organ donation. Upon reflection I think I should have answered, “Yes.” It was just that the question surprised me. I was still in a self-congratulatory mood having been given a clean bill of health. And not only that, I had just won a battle with city refuse collectors over a dumpster that had been blocking my garage door. So it’s a good thing the bountiful State of Missouri allows me to correct my error in three rather than the seven years’ licensure available to those under 70. Still, I have other, more disturbing thoughts.<\/p>\n
Should I interpret the experience of renewing my driver’s license as placing subtle pressure upon me to get it over with and kick the bucket, cash in my chips, pass on to a better place (without, of course, my corneas, liver, and lights)? Does the redneck state of Missouri wish me dead—so as to be rid of my liberal, medicare-consuming ass? Is my driver’s license in reality a death license? Does President Obama have designs on my body parts?<\/p>\n
—these questions boggle the mind.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Today I have achieved the age of 72. I am not old, though I do make an occasional joke about geezerdom. Last week at my regular appointment with my primary care physician, on whom I have a geezerly crush, I … Continue reading