Dreading the Date

I'm in the home stretch -- I'm living the last week of my life in my forties. I've been down in the dumps about turning fifty since the beginning of the year.

Turning thirty didn't bother me, nor did turning forty. But fifty is different. It's either the last act of middle age or it's the prologue to old age.

Last week, I was sent an AARP membership package, though I'd not requested one. I'm not fucking ready for this shit! I threw the envelope into the trash and hoped that no one saw the mailman put it in my box with my name on it.

I'm not ready for cardigan sweaters, polyester sansabelt pants...errr trousers...up to my armpits, or velcro-fastening Hush Puppies. Nor am I ready for a light blue or light brown Buick Century. Ditto to senior citizen discounts. And I'm DAMN SURE not yet needing Viagra. Hell, I still get that amazed feeling that I'm a grown-up already from time to time.

I've slowed down some in my sex life since my early 20s, to be sure, but it's not because of a lack of virility. And my sex life is still a hell of a lot more busy than most men twenty years younger than me. But I must admit that since the beginning of the year, I've engaged in a lot more random hookups than I'd been doing in the few previous years. I don't know, I guess I'm reassuring myself that my virility and desirability to the opposite sex isn't about to go down the tubes.

But, still, the first time I hook up for a one night stand after my birthday, I don't think I'll be able to tell them that I'm fifty. It's only a year, but forty-nine sounds a lot younger than fifty for some odd reason.

For those of you who have already passed this milestone or will soon face it, how does/did it make you feel?