In the last few days it has come to my attention that being old has nothing to do with age.
At least that’s what I want to believe as I shuffle towards another birthday (I can hardly wait for the day when I can drive a Rascal Scooter through the aisles of Wal-mart).
How old am I?
I almost hate to say it out loud. I will soon be having my second 21st birthday.
When I was a kid someone celebrating (or in my case barely acknowledging) their 42nd birthday was old. And near death. That’s if they weren’t already dead.
At the very least, they were a sad pathetic drooling shell of their former youthful self.
But how things change.
Now a 50th, 60th, or even an 80th birthday doesn’t seem that bad to me. In fact if I’m lucky enough to make it that far, I will feel like I’ve beat the system.
Life is like playing cards. High card wins. Which means another birthday always trumps death.
When you work at a school, I’ve found that students think everyone is old. To them there are young teachers (under 25 and not married) and the old teachers (the rest of us).
I like children. I really do. Except the ones who ask “How old are you?” and as soon as I answer, they scream…
My first thought is quiet down, people can hear you. At least the younger teachers can hear you… the older ones are mostly deaf.
Then I curse them (but as a good administrator, always under my breath… let that be a lesson to the brand new administrators… never curse out loud).
Students think they have their whole lives ahead of them.
And they do (again, I curse the ones who are soon to replace me)
In their minds the only thing I have ahead of me is a nursing home, a bedpan, and the sweet relief of death (no more Sunday nights!!!… wait, that might be a bad thing).
I’m not here to badmouth nursing homes, but I’m not a big fan. The only thing worse to me than living (?) my remaining years in a home is sporting an adult diaper while I’m there.
I don’t care how much money you have, or your life’s status… an oversized diaper is not a good look.
Even with the impending pressure of living out my few good remaining years in a home, I have taken the time to come up with a theory (yes, another one… bare with me, I’m old).
I don’t think age has anything to do with how many birthdays you’ve celebrated.
I think it has more to do with how current you stay.
To back up my theory, I have enlisted Dr. Oz (if he’s good enough for Oprah… he’s good enough for me).
I took the Real Age test. And found out I’m not 42, I’m 30.8.
Bad news is I could have snuck back into my 20’s if I weren’t so fat. They say it’s hard to lose weight once you’re 30.8 years old and I’m starting to believe them.
But that is a small fat little bump in the road.
The nice part is you don’t have to be your chronological age.
I think this is equally true for teachers and administrators.
If you stay current, I think you have a chance to be younger at school than you really are.
This is wonderful for both you and your students. While you may still be old in their eyes, you may not be as old.
So get out there and don’t be afraid of the email machines, the mysterious internet, those crazy blogs, and other technology advances.
You are only as old as you feel and act.
Although, if you are like me you will probably stay just as fat.