The Friday 4: Ways You Know You're Getting Old

And by "you," of course, I mean "me." 

4. Your pop culture references receive blank stares and furrowed brows from your students. 

Gotta love Grady Tripp 

Hey, I can toss out a Jay-Z reference with the best of 'em - but when I mention a movie like  Wonder Boys or The Hours (both of which are books! the second of which I'm teaching later this semester!), and my students respond with the same look that, say, Dirty Harry or The French Connection, would get from them, it's a sign I'm no longer on the cutting edge. (Not that I ever was. But still.) 

3. Five years ago, you could name about 150 of the 200 people you graduated high school with; now, 75 is pushing it. 

My graduating class had 217 people. In June 2000, when I departed from those hallowed halls, I could name roughly 217 of the people who left with me. About five years ago, I probably still had a good 150 names locked away in my brain. I have for years marveled at how people forget the last names, faces, etc. of former classmates they spent YEARS around. Then the other night - b/c I do useless things like this - while I was laying in bed, I tried (in my head) to name as many people by first and last name as I could. To say I got 75 is a stretch. And it's not like more useful things have filled my noggin since 2006 and taken up the name-space. 

I think I can feel the memory dripping out of my head . . . . 

2. Your teacher has to increase the font size on the projected computer screen to 18 pt. so you could read it. 

On Tuesday, my professor projected a Word file -
standard Times New Roman, 12 pt. font - onto the screen at the front of the classroom. Squinting, I still had difficulty making out the words. I asked him to make it bigger, and he increased the font to 18 pt., which wasn't bad, though I was still leaning forward. People in the class chuckled at my request. Whatev. The kicker is my teacher's response: "You're like me." No biggie, until I explain that two weeks ago he got his first pair of bifocals. Oh, and that's he's 40. 

1. You consider sleeping till 9:30 a.m. "sleeping in." 

Never thought the day would come. Never. Still in a bit of denial that it has. As recently as Christmas break, I could snooze till 11 a.m. with ease; this past summer, 12:30 was easy as pie. 

But something's happened. Now, even on days when my alarm isn't set for 6 a.m., I'm usually up before 8. On the weekends, if Brad and I get out of bed around 9 or 9:30, I think, "Wow! We sure slept late!" What's next?! Wearing my pants up to my armpits and driving 14 mph down the highway?