Celebrating Old

I don't know exactly when it happened. It was more than a day ago, a month ago or even a year ago. Somewhere out of the blue I got old. There were signs here and there that it was happening, but for the longest time I choose to ignore them. "Oh, you're not old" my friends would say like it was an ailment or a disease. Something that would never happen to me. So, if I am not old, what am I supposed to say? Maybe I should say I am vintage. Seems to work for Danish furniture making it worth twice the price, not to mention those items on Fab.com that go for ten times what they cost at the garage sale they were found at. I could say I am mid-century like my house. It certainly makes my 50s tract home sound elegant. I guess I could say I'm retro. That's kind of cool. A boy I once worked with told me he loved my sweater because it looked so retro. Sadly, it really was. My sweater was five years older than he was. I know one thing I don't want to call myself - young. There is nothing more obnoxious than someone saying, "Happy Birthday. You are 48 years young." No, I'm not. That's a stupid expression and I am not young.

Maybe I can just say I'm old. There! I said it. I am old. What's wrong with that?! Old really should be a good thing not something to be ashamed of. I've worked really hard to get to this age and I am taking all the credit for it. Instead of hiding my head in shame about my age, why don't I celebrate it? What's wrong with celebrating old?! So that's that. I am no longer going to worry about my age I am going to celebrate it. I am going to celebrate old!