“But time makes you bolder; even children get older. And I’m gettin’ older, too.”

Fleetwood Mac, “Landslide,” 1975

Let’s face it, folks; none of us are getting any younger.

As I’ve discussed in this space before, the sands of time are falling faster and faster for your friendly neighborhood news editor. I find myself, and maybe you find yourselves, thinking more and more about aging each day.

I remember, nearly 33 years ago, coming into the living room on my 20th birthday. My dad, rest his soul, looked at me and asked “how does it feel to be 20 years old?”

I replied, “To be honest, I don’t feel that great today.” And I’m not sure I’ve felt great since. If I woke up tomorrow and felt “great,” I’d probably head straight for the emergency room.

Talking with a friend of mine who turned 20 near the end of last year, I had the same semi-jocular conversation I’ve had with other people over the years. It always begins the same way, with a warning to “Be careful; your warranty runs out at 30. Things go bad, and they don’t fix themselves the way they used to.”

That’s quickly followed by, “And at 40, your ‘check engine’ light comes on. Things go bad, and you’re not sure what caused it.”

A lady nearer my age then asked me what happens at 50, to which I replied, “At 50, every little pain you feel, you ask yourself ‘Is this the thing that kills me?’”

That’s where I stand these days. If I wake up with neck pain, it’s not because I slept in a weird position; it’s clearly osteoporosis or bone cancer. If my hand falls asleep, it’s obviously the beginning stages of a stroke. If I have a tummy ache, it must be parasites or Crohn’s Disease.

There are benefits to getting to middle-age, however. At 40, I decided not to give a tinker’s cuss what anyone else thought about me. And, at 45, I decided not to stand around and listen to guff from anyone who thought I should care about their opinion. So being a gruff “old man” is a status I’ve taken to like a withered old duck to a stagnant old pond.

If and when you reach this age, I hope you join me in this attitude. Believe me, it’s a nice place to be. It’s mind over matter, after all: You no longer mind, because other people no longer matter.

Now, I’m no fool. I know getting older comes with a few new rules. You can’t eat whatever you want, you have to take prescriptions if they’re mandated, and you might find yourself waiting patiently for the sun to go down so you can finally go to bed at the end of the day. As my girlfriend’s mom says, “Getting old ain’t for sissies.”

But, in the end, let’s not stress too much about getting older.

Because, let’s face it; it sure beats the alternative.

Standard News Editor Rob Nunley can be contacted at rnunley@southernstandard.com