Then three things happened that gave me pause:
- I drove past the site of a new development here in Wickliffe where 55-and-over housing is being built. A sign out front referred to the soon-to-be-constructed houses as "senior living" units. Senior living.
- I was flipping through the Wickliffe Connection, our town's quarterly newspaper, when I came across an article about the Wickliffe Senior Center, which I've always thought of as a nice gathering place for the very elderly in our community. Then I noticed this line: "Anyone 55 and over may become a member" of the Senior Center. I'm sorry, what??
- Every year, my company generously makes a lump-sum contribution to each employee's 401(k) account. This contribution is a certain percentage of your eligible earnings, with that percentage rising as you get older. The age group receiving the highest-percentage contribution – the old fogies of the company who presumably need the money the most – is 55 and over. Yes, I'm now considered essentially the same as a 70-year-old. I appreciate the infusion of cash, but that one hurt.
I guess I always thought stuff like this didn't happen until you turned at least 65. But even as lifespans increase and people generally maintain their youthful vigor for longer periods, we're suddenly associating age 55 with "senior citizen," and I'm admittedly shaken.
On the other hand...
I'm thinking Terry and I should consider moving into one of the new 55-and-over houses and joining the Senior Center. It may be disconcerting to find ourselves in the old person demographic, but compared with our prospective neighbors and fellow Senior Center members, we'll be the young, rowdy kids! Like the slightly overweight person who hangs out only with very fat friends, by comparison, we'll be the life of the party.
Shuffleboard at our house. 3pm tomorrow. BYOE (Bring Your Own Ensure).
No comments:
Post a Comment