A Day Of Compliments?

I am fifteen days away from 60. My hair is grey. Each morning I wake up wondering what part of me is going to hurt today. But at least I wake up. I think I am entering my second mid-life crisis, though my first, which started when I was 43 (I am non-traditional in a lot of ways), has not yet ended. I seek balance in my life, as do we all, on a day to day, sometimes minute by minute basis.

Today I was hit by extremes. At Blockbuster, a young lady needed my ID to open a membership account. My driver's license is located in a slip cover on my wallet. The last digit of my birth year is obscured. She asked, "1950 - what?"

I answered, "Just 1950, though I am loathe to admit it."

She smiled. "You don't look it," she said. Of course, I beamed.

Fifteen minutes later I was at the Grocery Outlet, checking out. Another, even younger woman volunteered -- without an ID check -- a senior discount. So much for balance.

I took the discount.