I’VE ADAPTED TO LIFE WITH THAT OLD MAN IN THE MIRROR
By Bob Vickrey
                                                    
January 22, 2012

“For years I wanted to be older, and now I am.” – Margaret Atwood

While working out at my gym a few years ago, I spotted a familiar face across the room by using the multi-mirrored effect of our present day vanity salons we call athletic clubs.

For a moment I couldn’t remember how I knew him, but thought he might be the retired history professor I’d been introduced to several years earlier by a longtime friend. He seemed older now than I had remembered.

Upon closer inspection, I noticed he was wearing the same long-sleeved blue shirt as I, and in fact, was doing the same exact exercise that I was engaged in. It then hit me like a bolt of lightning that the older man I was staring at was my own mirrored image from across that room.

The stranger I had encountered that day took me somewhat aback, but I was rather fascinated by the serendipitous way the reality of aging had subsequently revealed itself to me. I now just needed to become acquainted with this older version of the person I had once known in earlier years.

Most friends my age now regularly refer to the Betty Davis quote, “Getting old is not for sissies” as we have all begun to notice the letters ‘Dr.’ in front of many names in our address book.

We’ve also realized we are receiving way too many emails that are entitled: “You know you’re getting old when…” Those are only slightly preferable to the unending series of annoying nostalgic emails which emphasize how much better life was in an earlier era than it is now. You know the ones I’m referring to: “Back when a Coke cost a nickel” and “We walked to school then without fear of a drive-by shooting.” I’ve never quite figured out why being reminded of these facts would make us feel better about our present place in life.

Of course, denial has traditionally served as a way of avoiding the inevitable natural process of getting older. Comedian Jack Benny famously celebrated his 39th birthday for many decades after the original birthday had long since passed. The later version of his trick eventually morphed into the familiar 20th (or whichever) anniversary celebration of a 39th birthday.

I remember being forced to confront my age several years ago when attending a movie with a neighbor and his young daughters. He insisted on buying my ticket, and as he approached the young woman behind the glass window, he ordered two ‘children’ and two ‘senior’ tickets. I jokingly let my friend know how appalled I was by his use of the ‘S’ word and also for fudging our ages by a few years, but he reminded me that we had been ‘seniors’ for decades in the eyes of the young woman at the ticket window.

 I once attended a charity event that included a number of older Hollywood actors and actresses on the guest list. I found it rather disconcerting to see that so many of them had attempted to retain their youthful screen appearances by overly indulging in the enhancing techniques of modern plastic surgery. Several had gone to the well once too often and had dramatically altered the images of the familiar faces I had once recalled on the big screen.

However, one beautiful actress I had remembered as a young boy looked to me exactly the way she should at her present age. She now had rounded features with a few additional pounds and could have easily passed as the double for my attractive Aunt Helen. I admired her for her boldness in embracing her age and current station in life.

As young people we couldn’t imagine ever growing older. Our parents and their generation were so far removed from the world we inhabited that we never imagined the day would come when it would be our turn to walk in their shoes. The ‘fountain of youth’ was nothing more than a fable, but generations bought into the concept of much of that myth. Conversely, there is something truly liberating about confronting and honestly accepting where we have arrived during this odyssey.

The next time I’m in my local gym and spot the familiar face in the mirror across the room, I’m betting that I’ll recognize him easily. We’ve had some time to get comfortable with each other since that last encounter. You’ve got to understand that we go way back together. 

Bob Vickrey’s columns have appeared in the Houston Chronicle and Ft. Worth Star-Telegram. He is a member of the Board of Contributors for the Waco Tribune-Herald and a contributor to the Boryana Books website. He lives in Pacific Palisades, California.