80 Is The New 90

I am currently 79 years old. Happily, this number still retains some dignity. Nobody considers being 79 the same as being 90. Nobody uses it as the precursor to the grave. But 80 -- now that's a different story. When you're 80, people treat you like you're already dead. Being just two months away from that milestone, I can tell you from personal experience that it's a monumental drag.

The fact is I am limber. I work out with a trainer at CrossFit twice a week to help stay that way. I walk unaided, and with a spring in my step when I feel like it. (I would run but my hip replacement will last longer if I don't.) I live in a three-story house and run up and down the stairs all day long, too many times to count. (Yes, I hold onto the handrail, I'm not an idiot.) Still, lately I am treated like an invalid by people who know my real age, especially my own family. 

Just last night, descending the stairs at a theater after seeing a play, my son turned to me and asked if I needed any help, something he has never asked in all his 38 years, even when I obviously did. And just last week as I was emerging from an airplane, an airport porter came at me and shouted, in case I was deaf,  if I needed a wheelchair. "Hey buddy, do I look like I need a wheelchair? I shouted back. (I was remorseful later, realizing he was just trying to earn a living.)

Honestly, I'm sick of it. Treating older people as if they already have one foot in the grave sucks. Can't we be permitted to feel good if we feel good? Look at Cher, who is 16 days older than I am and lives with her 39-year-old boyfriend. (See photo.) 

So I've decided to cancel my upcoming birthday and continue telling anyone who asks that I am 79, steeling myself for the inevitable intake of breath followed by,"Wow, that's almost 80!" 

I'll take "almost 80" for as long as I can get away with it.