It is the nature of newsroom people not to act their age, but as Jayne Foster and I inch our way closer to our 60th decade we are finding senior moments aren’t phenomenon that happen to other people.
Part of the cause is the nature of today’s world of work — the more you do, the more you are asked to do while being pushed to get it done faster than ever. All that pressure combined with the entire concept of “we aren’t as young as we once were” causes mistakes to happen (how many of you caught “forgottten” in a recent headline?).
We will come back from a weekend off and seem to have forgotten how to use the various computer programs that help us put the paper together. We will certainly have forgotten what we had on hand Friday to build the Tuesday paper between 7 a.m. and noon Monday. See what I mean? Do more, do it faster …
Or, as two self-described grammar and punctuation mavens, we’ll suddenly have a total blank on whether to use “lie” or “lay.” Apostrophe police all our lives, we’ll find ourselves scratching our heads and pondering “it’s” or “its.”
With characteristic aplomb we’ve decided not to let this development get us down. In some ways we still refuse to act our age — I still don’t acknowledge grey hair, although Jayne does, I still try to keep up with young chicks at a twice-a-week boot camp workout session, while Jayne teaches belly dancing and other dancing on a regular basis and we both refuse to give up on our quirky newsroom view of the world.
But we were craving a way of officially acknowledging our “senior” status.
A local restaurant offers up just the thing we were looking for. Humpty’s Emerald 55 program entitles seniors to a 10 per cent discount any day of the week, but wait there’s more. Card carrying seniors can get a whopping 20 per cent discount on Tuesdays.
So last Tuesday Jayne and I went out for lunch, asked a perky young waitress where to sign up. She immediately provided us with application forms. Alas, she did not ask us for ID to prove our 55 or over status.
The form was a bit of a hurdle in my bid not to act my age. Arthritis in my right thumb and wrist make that an often-painful exercise. Jayne offered to fill it out for me, but I’m no wimp. I soldiered through the process of filling in my name, address and, of course, birth date.
The birth date part sparked a conversation about who could retire before whom, as Jayne insists I can’t go before she can go. After deciding I was the older one we negotiated an agreement based on me sticking around an extra year. Then, two women who almost never know what day it is and frequently what year, finally came to the realization that no, if Jayne was born a year before I was, then she is the one who is older.
That settled we enjoyed a leisurely meal (I got change back for a $10 bill) and went back to work as card-carrying seniors.
Now whenever I have a “moment” I don’t even feel I have to let out a heavy sigh or a bad word, I just hold up my pretty green Humpty’s card and wave it around.
