At 76, I feel old today. Last week I didn’t. This week I do. Here are three little episodes that contributed to the cause:
1 – Two days ago, I looked back on a Mormon Stories interview I gave a couple of months ago. I noticed that as I gestured with my hands, the fingers on my right hand looked long and boney. I saw my finger nails, they looked long. That can’t be, I said. I cut my finger nails the day before the interview. Is it possible that when you’re old, your fingers turn long and boney? Is it possible when you’re old your fingernails grow the second after you cut them? A voice inside my head said, “yeap, that’s how it goes Bud.”
(Bud is what they called my biological dad. I never met him, but his actual first name was Percy. No wonder he wanted to be called Bud. I have no idea why the voice in my head calls me Bud.)
2 – For the last two weeks, my wife has been bugging me about making an appointment with my doctor to check my lungs, because as she said, “ your voice sounds like it has a gurgle in it.” I said, “all I need to do is clear my throat and the gurgle will disappear.” I did and the gurgle stopped, and then it came back. The voice in my head said, “Bud, your lungs are ok, but you’re starting to sound like a gangster. That’s your new voice, the voice of a man who not only is getting older, but who is already old.”
3 – Yesterday, a guy who looks right out of Hollywood casting shows up at my door and announces himself as a repo guy. He said I’m here to repossess your car. The fool I am, I invite him in. My wife joined me in the lobby and becomes scared because she thinks he’s here to rob us. He looks at us and says, “I’m going to repo your car. But as I look at you Mr. Hendrix, I’m sure you made some kind of mistake on your payments. I’ll return on Thursday. That gives you four days to clear things up.” Moral of that story? Repo guys don’t make money unless they show up and repo cars. However, he looked at me and had pity on me. You have to be really old to have these muscle bound slicked back hair dudes pity you. When they don’t repo your car on the spot, because you look old, you are old.
(Yes, I made a mistake on the transfer numbers in sending the payments. That also makes me old. First time in my life that has happened. And, yes, it was cleared up by my friend and financial adviser of close to thirty five years.
So how do I feel about my oldness? Old . . . but God willing and the creek don’t rise, my youth will return for the harvest of the corn. “You got that one right, Bud.”