They say that you're only as old as you feel, but when I woke up this morning I felt like I was no more than 27 years old. Or maybe 21, if you include the hangover.

But according to the AARP, the age on my driver's license is a complete lie. In fact, those elder sages at the American Association of Retired Persons just sent me a letter implying that I'm actually somewhere over the age of 50!

Now I certainly don't remember turning 50, but we all know that memory is one of the first things to go. In fact, there's a good chance that they're onto something, because just lately I've had the urge to watch the CBS Evening News, read the obituaries, and write angry letters to my Congressman about smut on The View.

I've also noticed that I'm out of touch with the slang used by kids these days. As far as I know, "getting pwned" is a chess term and if you're "all up in my grill" it's probably because you really like my barbeque.

But these paisley slacks look good on someone of my advanced age, and if anybody tells you different, they're just a bunch of whippersnappers who wouldn't know a shuffle board from a bingo parlor. Why, back in MY day, we counted ourselves lucky just to HAVE pants! Most of us wore old Wonder Bread bags with holes cut out for our legs.

Where was I? Sorry, the senility kicks in at the worst moments. Oh yes, I was about to tell you about the letter I got from the AARP.

"Dear Mr. Andrew Murphy," the letter began. "Our records show that you haven't yet registered for the benefits of AARP membership, even though you are fully eligible."

Fully eligible? I wonder if all this happened because of that crazy old lady who sneezed on me at the grocery store last week. Maybe I caught old age from her? If nothing else, that would explain why I bought so much prune juice and Kasha…

But the letter was legit. I adjusted my bifocals, and sure enough, the AARP believes that I'm fully eligible for membership. "I urge you to register now so you may start enjoying AARP benefits and services with no further delay." (Translation: "Hurry up and send us your money, old man. You could die any minute!")

What kind of AARP benefits am I fully eligible for? Glad you asked, Sonny!

On the back of the letter, the AARP highlights 22 large print benefits of joining. Most have something to do with health insurance and travel discounts, but I'm going to make a bet that Benefit #20 (Reduced-Fee Legal Services) was added just in case Benefit #19 (The AARP Safe-Driving Course) backfires.

But the AARP is quick to add that the 22 benefits are "only a partial list!", implying there are innumerable AARP benefits. But since I'm fully eligible for AARP membership, I think I'll keep my addled brain sharp by pointing out a few benefits they failed to mention:

Benefit #23: Senior Citizen's Discount at Shoney's and Sizzler.

Benefit #24: Unlimited rentals from The Matlock VHS Library.

Benefit #25: Exclusive access to bigoted rants about "Orientals" and "A-Rabs".

Benefit #26: Weekly newsletter Back In My Day… packed with cutting edge, over-the-top anecdotes about how poor you once were, so that your grandchildren will look at you with that special mix of respect and fear. But mostly fear.

Benefit #27: Save hundreds with the AARP flexible spending plan, allowing reimbursement for hard candy and crackers that taste like chicken.

As fantastic as all these benefits sound, I'm afraid that I'm just not ready for AARP membership. Sure there are times, such as during the fourth quarter of a football game, when wearing adult diapers would come in handy. But I just can't skip all the fun parts of getting older, like turning 40, having a mid-life crisis, and buying a sports car.

So I'm going to take off these paisley pants, put on some baggy jeans, and show the AARP what it's like to get totally pwned.

Whatever that means.

Copyright © 2006 Andy Murphy
Please do not remove the copyright from this work.

Send by Email! | Contact Us! | Permanent Link