Okay. I'm now reduced to this; blatant stealing.
My friend Nicki posed the question on her blog - "You know you are getting old when ..." She commented on the new refrigerator that was installed in her apartment. It didn't have an ice maker. http://nickilovesdrama.blogspot.com/
I thought about that question. I thought about that refrigerator. (No, I am not seriously in need of a life ... at least not seriously. Not TOO seriously.) In case you don't know this fact about me, I'll tell you. At the moment I am deeply engrossed in writing a play. In short, there are people who think this play is completed. I have no idea why they think that. Well, maybe I might have a suspicion. In any case, I'm working away at this thing, and take a few minutes to breeze thru the blogs I enjoy. And there is Nicki's question - a distraction. So here's my secret. when I'm under self-induced pressure, I am drawn to distraction. The more pressure, the more I cling to distraction. It's like moss growing on the north side of a tree. (Does moss really grow on the north side of a tree? How does it know which way is north? I learned this bit of trivia from a John Wayne movie, so it must be true. John Wayne has never lied to me. Actually, I think it was William Holden who said it, but he was standing beside John Wayne at the time, and if it wasn't true, John Wayne would have corrected William Holden. I don't recall anybody ever correcting John Wayne.)
Where was I?
Anyway, I was drawn to Nicki's question. I can easily remember a time before refrigerators HAD ice makers. Does that mean I know I'm getting older? (Don't tell anybody. When I was really young - I mean minus two or something like that - I can remember a friend of my parents who had a refrigerator that had no electricity. It was a big wooden box with ice in the bottom drawer. But that was in Chicago in the summer. In the winter they didn't even need the wooden box. They just put their milk and hot dogs out on the window sill, and whatever was out there stayed cold just fine. But that was Chicago - very progressive.)
In the meantime, I thought the question was a good one, and - being a writer, I'd love your response. How do you know when you are getting older? (And I'll make it easy on you - you don't have to talk about refrigerators, or even Chicago, if you don't want to. Personally, I think Chicago is a pretty interesting place, and I think there's plenty to write about, but not much of it makes me feel older. S0 maybe you shouldn't write about Chicago.)
On the other hand, I'm not at all suggesting that you CAN'T write about Chicago if you want to. I mean, if Chicago makes you feel old, I'd love to hear about it.
So. Ya got it? "You know you are getting old when ...
(And to make it even easier, the kind blogger people have provided a comment box for you. I'm not kidding. It's about three inches down from where you are reading at this very minute. If you don't believe me, go ahead and scroll down and see, and then come back. That's okay. I'll wait.
Do be do be dooooo ...
See? It's there - waiting for you. Ya ready? "You know you are getting old when ...'
And how was your day?