I’M TOO YOUNG TO BE THAT OLD

ImageSomething is dreadfully wrong with mirrors these days. They all make me look old. Every time  I look at one, I see an elderly man staring back at me. How can this be? Is that grumpy old fart really me?

Whatever happened to the ambitious and idealistic young man I used to see each morning as I shaved? All that thick brown hair seems to have turned grey. The face seems to have wrinkles in it. Odd how that has happened. Are those worry lines I see?

That bathroom mirror also makes the top of my head look bald. How can that be since I still feel hair there. It must be a trick of the light. These cork-screw bulbs the hardware and big box stores sell these days don’t have the comforting warm glow of incandescent lamps. Yeah, it must be those lights that are to blame for the optical illusion.

The clothing I see each day in my bathroom mirror has changed as well. Gone are the dress shirts and T shirts. Now I see hoodies and sweatshirts that the man in the mirror is wearing. Both look so frumpy to me.

And whatever happened to those nerdy horn-rimmed glasses with real glass lenses? Now the frames are wire and the plastic lenses are rectangular, not square-ish. How can anybody see out of silly-looking glasses like that.

I can’t possibly be that bulgy either. What happened to my size-32 waistline. The one in the mirror seems to have gone to waste. I’ve also seen sacks of potatoes with fewer lumps poking out than that belly.

No doubt about it, mirrors aren’t like they once were. I’d have my bathroom one replaced but all the others show the same thing. Maybe I can go to one of those building recycling stores and find a decent mirror, one that reflects my image the way it ought to look. Until then, I’ll have to use my imagination to fill in the missing brown hair and thin waistline. I’ll need to add the dress shirts and T shirts in my mind to that impossibly-old image I now see as well.

But seriously, I’ve written three memoirs. The one about my rabbits and childhood at a school for the blind are available through the Bruce Atchison’s books link. How I Was Razed: A Journey from Cultism to Christianity is available through Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Virtual Bookworm Publishers.

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Author: bruce Atchison - author

I'm a legally-blind freelance writer as well as the author of How I Was Razed, Deliverance from Jericho, and When a Man Loves a Rabbit. Two of those memoirs are available on my Blogspot page. How I Was Razed is available through Amazon and at the www.virtualbookworm.com page.

4 thoughts on “I’M TOO YOUNG TO BE THAT OLD”

  1. I think we bought our mirrors from the same store. Have a hoody! Why thank you. And here’s a jelly roll to go along with it. grin I have written a few posts on my blog about growing old and its effects on my psyche. I shrug it off and keep writing, but in the meantime, I also keep getting older. How much is that gray haired billy goat in the window? Great post Mr. A. Really hit home with me.

    dp http://www.dplyons.wordpress.com

    1. I’m glad you cought the humor in my post. I also suffer from the waists of my jeans shrinking on me. The floor seems further and further away when I tie my shoes. Furthermore, the music I love is now called classic rock. I get blank stares when I mention Iron Butterfly, The Electric Prunes, Deep Purple, Pink Floyd, and other bands. This aging thing gets old fast, doesn’t it?

  2. You are not the only one who feels this way. Actually, for me, it is just the opposite. At the pharmacy today, a gal asked me how old I was and could not believe that I will be 53 on Sunday. This will be a blessing for me when I am sixty, I suppose.

    Sent from my iPad

    >

    1. Thanks, Abbie, for your comment. One nice thing about looking old is that people automatically assume I qualify for senior’s discounts. To be truthful, I’m only 57. I also told an acquaintence at a restraunt that I look old but I’m just post-dated.

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