Being Old is a State of Mind – I Guess I’m Really Old

RT Cunningham 2017 old Recently, I suddenly realized I was old. I’m sure I already knew it, somewhere in the back of my mind. It’s just that I came to terms with it all at once.

I don’t like the way I look because I look older than I feel. I don’t need people including me in their selfies to remind me of it. Unfortunately, most of my nieces and nephews want to include me in their selfies, regardless of what I need or want.

Some of my relatives are already calling me a grumpy old man, here at my home in the Philippines. I prefer “curmudgeon” but I suppose I’m not quite cantankerous enough to qualify for that description.

One of the things I truly enjoy is making my relatives think I’m angry when I’m not (and when I’m joking and they think I’m not).

People should let the Old Man Relax wherever he wants to Relax

When I start talking about myself in the third person, it’s a cause for concern. Well, it is for other people. As I always say, I don’t like being interrupted when I’m talking to myself. I have to do that sometimes because sometimes I need an expert opinion. Anyway…

Some people kicked me out of my outdoor man-cave yesterday. (It was too nice of a day to spend it in my indoor man-cave, the master bedroom.) The neighborhood gamblers (including my wife, Josie) wanted to use that space under the carport where I usually hang out when I hang out outside the house.

Luckily, being a nice day and having my back yard almost completely finished, I was able to chill out under the trees.

Back to the Selfie

If you take a look at the picture I chose to let you see, you’ll see the old man in a state of being annoyed. One of my nephews, Michael, decided to include me in a selfie against my wishes. I waved him off (wagging my middle finger at him) countless times and I guess he managed to sneak this one in when I didn’t. I downloaded it from his timeline on Facebook.

The person you don’t see in the picture is another relative, a bilas known as Ramil. He was sitting behind Michael, who’s 25 years younger than me. Ramil, however, is only five or six years younger than me. Ramil and I were listening to music on my laptop before Michael showed up. None of that modern nonsense either.

The drink you see belonged to Michael. It was a rum and coke, like the one you don’t see of mine. Mine was on the other side of the table and yes, it’s my rum and coke he was drinking.

My Old State of Mind

I guess I’m really old. Well, at least at it concerns the younger generations in the United States. I don’t understand the entitlement mentality a lot of them have. They don’t seem to want to work for their future retirements – they want handouts. (I don’t have that problem with the Filipinos here. They don’t get welfare, food stamps or any of that nonsense.)

I worked for 30 years before I retired from the work force (20 years of that military). The military part was continuous, the civilian part not so much. I still managed to get out of the rat race by 45. I get a military pension every month. Trust me, I earned it. Not only that, but it was part of the guarantee when I enlisted at the age of 17. It isn’t a handout.

Josie and I had some stressful financial issues when we first married, but I never sought out any handouts to supplement my income. We made do with what I earned until the kids were old enough to where she could add to my income. As a result, she worked for more than 20 years herself. She and I both get to draw social security pensions within a year of each other.

I planned for my retirement when I wasn’t old. I may have been young at the time, but I wasn’t stupid. Not like the young, stupid Americans of today.

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