When aging hurts

My wife doesn't like to be reminded that she's older than me. 

I'm not sure why. She's only six months older. 

For only half the year, her age is one digit different than mine. Mind you, when you hit those landmark birthdays like 40, it's two digits difference. Now that is a bit more significant. 

Not to say she's anywhere near the age of 40. I, on the other hand, am getting close. One and a half more years of the glorious 30s. I'm just about as old as Peyton Manning, and he's about to be the oldest quarterback to ever play in a Superbowl (he's 39). 

In football years, Manning is over the hill. One's football age, so I've read, is determined by multiplying your real age by 2.5. He's 98 in football years, and it shows. We'll see how he does on Sunday, but he clearly lacks the arm strength he had just two years ago. 

I've started to notice a difference, too. This year I began to play badminton twice a week instead of only once. You wouldn't think badminton to be as hard on one's body as football, and I admit, it's not. I'm sure your badminton age can be determined by multiplying your real age by a factor of 1.2, or something like that. But I feel it, nonetheless. First it was a sore wrist, then sore feet, then a sore ankle. I can't even jog anymore because of my knees. I'm afraid the best years might be behind me. Until my wrist/ankle/knee replacement surgeries anyway. 

 It's in your 30s that you start to realize your youth is now behind you. Sometimes there are subtle hints. Like when my daughter asked me what the save icon means on the computer. It resembles a floppy disk, I explained to her. 

"What's a floppy disk, Daddy?" she asked.  

Oh, if only she knew the hardships I grew up with, when hard drives didn't even exist. Back in the day, we had to boot up our computer from a five-and-a-quarter-inch floppy disk. They were actually floppy, you see, unlike the three-and-half-inch disks that came out a few years later. Their non-floppiness was revolutionary.  

Then she asks me something like: "What was the Internet like when you were small?" 

Believe it or not, child, we didn't have the Internet. We had to consult with books called encyclopedias. They were very heavy and rarely current. 

 I even notice the age gap when talking to our 20-year-old co-op student at work. I can just imagine someone recalling a particular episode of the Cosby Show and him asking: "What's the Cosby Show?" 

"Oh, it was a family comedy starring Bill Cosby." 

"Uh, the rapist?" 

"Yah, well, uh, he wasn't  quite known for that back then. He was a great, uh, family man." 

Oh, how times change. Fortunately the Simpsons are still being produced, so I have at least something in common with him. Although it's probably mostly watched by 40-year-olds. 

But the biggest difference I've noticed as I grow older is in my understanding of the world. This increased understanding has made me far less fun (if I ever was) and far more cynical. 

I used to be an idealist. Now I'm bound by pragmatism. 

I used to oppose government, now I work for one.  

I used to want to change the world in one fell swoop. Now I want to incrementally improve society as budgets permit. 

It's all part of the natural progression of life. And I welcome it. 

Good luck to you, Peyton Manning. All us old fogeys are rootin' for ya.