in a week for the aging, um aged, er ages]
Today at the drugstore, the =
clerk was a gent.
From my purchase, he took off 10 percent.
I =
asked for the cause of a lesser amount;
And he answered, =
“It’s the Seniors Discount.”
I went to McDonald’s for =
a burger and fries;
And there, once again, got quite a =
surprise.
The clerk poured some coffee which he handed to me.
He =
said, “For you seniors, the coffee is =
free.”
Understand — I’m =
not old — I’m merely mature.
But some things are =
changing, temporarily, I’m sure.
The newspaper print gets =
smaller each day,
And people speak softer, can’t hear what they =
say.
My teeth are my own (I have the =
receipt),
And my glasses identify people I =
meet.
Oh, I’ve slowed down a =
bit, not a lot, I am sure.
You see, I’m not old … =
I’m only mature.
The gold in my hair has been =
bleached by the sun.
You should see all the damage that chlorine has =
done.
Washing my hair has turned it =
all white,
Calling it blonde is just about =
right.
My car is all paid for, not a =
nickel is owed.
Yet a kid yells, “Old duffer, get off of the =
road!”
My car has no scratches, not even a dent.
Still, I =
get all that guff from a punk who’s =
“hell-bent.”
My friends all get older much =
faster than me.
They seem much more wrinkled, from what I can =
see.
I’ve got “character lines,” not wrinkles, for =
sure,
But don’t call me old: just call me =
mature.
The steps in the houses =
they’re building today
Are so high that they take all your =
breath away;
And the streets are much steeper than 10 years ago. =
That should explain why my walking is slow.
I’m keeping up on =
what’s hip and what’s new,
And I know I can still dance a =
mean boogaloo.
I’m still in the running, in this I’m =
secure,
I’m not really old, I’m only =
mature.
~~
Dr Bob Griffin =
[email protected] www.grif.net =
"Jesus Knows Me, This I =
Love!"