With the celebration of my birthday last week, I accomplished a feat few children are able to realize. I eclipsed the age of my father.
During the past several years, my dad celebrated his milestones by denying he was any age past 40. It became apparent during my 30s that he had instituted a “new math” formula for aging. Unlike dog years, he was modeling age according to some distant planetary calendar. A rough calculation, and I surmised he figured his age in “Jupiter years,” based on the idea that it takes approximately 12 earth years to equal one year on Jupiter. That put me in a predicament as I celebrated number 45 while he insisted he was only 39. Certainly, there would be an opportunity to sell the story to one of those afternoon talk shows. If the story sold well enough, I bet I would feel younger, also. In reality, I awaken each morning with a new ache. I am sure it is not random pains from a lumpy mattress, either, but instead the side effects of carrying a weed whacker around the yard or playing soccer with my son. More obviously, it is the result of my age based in earth years. Nevertheless, Dad’s ability for turning back the clock got me thinking about other ways I can tell I am getting older. • I would already have retired from professional sports if I was an athlete, and I am old enough to be a parent to some of my co-workers. • I never thought I would be attracted to a 40-something woman. Now I am married to one. • My computer address book currently has two listings for doctors (not because they are friends of the family). • Friends call me after 10 p.m. and begin their conversation by asking, “Did I wake you?” • “Once in a while” has become “weekly” when it comes to misplacing my car keys. • Some of my childhood toys — metal Tonka trucks — are collector items, according to online auction giant eBay. • Recently, I heard a song from my youth remixed as grocery store music. Even though it was an instrumental version, I could still remember every lyric, much to the embarrassment of my children, who happened to be in the same aisle. • There is nothing “dull” about spending an evening at home seated in front of a television holding a remote control. • When I look at myself first thing in the morning, I have begun resembling the person featured in the photo on my driver’s license. • I no longer worry about a hosting a party that is loud enough to attract the police. • I wave to members of law enforcement because I know them as friends, not because I just broke the speed limit. • I get upset when people interrupt me while watching the “Local on the 8’s” from The Weather Channel. • Recently, I caught myself telling my son how tough things used to be when I was a child. • Sometimes, I forget … Not on purpose. • Selective hearing loss used to occur only when it came to topics of home improvement brought up by my wife. Now, I only wish I could hear her ideas for landscaping and house accessorizing so I could properly ignore them. A few weeks ago, I read that The Weather Channel is “an old person’s Music Television” — another strike against my youthfulness. So, perhaps my dad has the right idea after all. With that in mind, I could adopt his formula by subtracting my birthdate from his age, making me a youthful 12 years old. Now I just need to remember to thank him properly. Right after I finish watching the Local on the 8s. Ken Knepper is publisher of The Newton Kansan. He can be contacted at kenneth.knepper@thekansan.com.
