BITE ME, AARP!
This is getting silly.
My birthday is in December. I will be 48. Repeat, FORTY-EIGHT. Not 50. FORTY-FUCKING-EIGHT!
And yet, I get an invitation in the mail last week to join the American Association of Retired Persons. An organization that used to be for people over 65. Then in their infinite greed, they started coming after 60-year-olds. Then 55-year-olds. Now the minimum age is 50. But they aren't waiting for you to turn 50 to send the invitation, which used to be a complimentary copy of Modern Maturity magazine -- a practice immortalized in a Tom Paxton song:
Modern Maturity means you're getting old
Now you get the magazine that you hide from your friends
Once it was Rolling Stone, it was thrill after thrill
Now Modern Maturity means over the hill.
I know they just want as many dues-paying members as they can get their grubby little paws on. And the Baby Boom was still going strong in 1958, so there are a lot of us to hit up for dues. But couldn't they at least wait until I hit 49 1/2? Sheesh.
I'm not ready to grow old. I'm still working on growing UP.
In other news: Morris banquet was a success. Enjoyed a lovely weekend in New Hampshire with friends N&G and J&K. Going to 30th-year HS reunion (speaking of feeling old) next month in N.H. and get to see N&G again.
Life is good.
My birthday is in December. I will be 48. Repeat, FORTY-EIGHT. Not 50. FORTY-FUCKING-EIGHT!
And yet, I get an invitation in the mail last week to join the American Association of Retired Persons. An organization that used to be for people over 65. Then in their infinite greed, they started coming after 60-year-olds. Then 55-year-olds. Now the minimum age is 50. But they aren't waiting for you to turn 50 to send the invitation, which used to be a complimentary copy of Modern Maturity magazine -- a practice immortalized in a Tom Paxton song:
Modern Maturity means you're getting old
Now you get the magazine that you hide from your friends
Once it was Rolling Stone, it was thrill after thrill
Now Modern Maturity means over the hill.
I know they just want as many dues-paying members as they can get their grubby little paws on. And the Baby Boom was still going strong in 1958, so there are a lot of us to hit up for dues. But couldn't they at least wait until I hit 49 1/2? Sheesh.
I'm not ready to grow old. I'm still working on growing UP.
In other news: Morris banquet was a success. Enjoyed a lovely weekend in New Hampshire with friends N&G and J&K. Going to 30th-year HS reunion (speaking of feeling old) next month in N.H. and get to see N&G again.
Life is good.
posted by niicelaady @ 8:46 PM
1 Comments:
At 5:50 AM,
The Bean said…
Don't feel too bad, my sis (who is now 31) starting getting those invites to join when she was 10 years old - have no clue why.
Have fun at your reunion!
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