John Sheda

Getting old is a relative phenomenon. When I was in my twenty’s, I figured hitting forty was old, quite old. However once I got to 40, it didn’t seem old at all, but 60 sure did. However, once I reached sixty, again, it didn’t seem to be old at all. Well, maybe a little, but heck, even 70 doesn’t seem old anymore. My three siblings are all there. And they seem to be doing well. For the most part anyway. Not this summer but next summer my High School Class of ’69 will be celebrating its’ 50th class reunion. Deb and I’ve been married forty some years and our eldest daughter is forty-one. I’m retired and have been for several years now. Both of my knees have been replaced and I just found out that I’m having some cataract issues. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Am I really getting old? Is getting old such a bad thing? If you are somewhere in my age neighborhood, you probably remember…..

Hating phone calls after 9 PM. “Who’s calling this late, dear.?

The hair on your head is much thinner and it’s all going to your ears.

The best parts of the newspaper is the obituaries and the column, “Looking Back…”

Those candy cigarettes, wax coke bottles and black jack gum.

You and your teeth don’t sleep together anymore.

It takes two or three tries to get out of the couch or recliner.

The recliner is now also your bed.

Getting lucky means you remember why you came into the kitchen.

When the Big Ten was actually the Big Ten.

Who Hayden Fry, Johnny Majors, Lute Olsen and Johnny Orr were.

The menu at McDonald’s was hamburgers, French Fries and a soft drink. All for 75 cents or less.

I could go on and on and on, but (yawn), it’s early afternoon and time for my mid-day nap. Have a nice day and tell me how much you just love this column.

You can reach me at jsheda@indytel.com or call me at 319.327.4640. That is………..if you can remember!!!!