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Hand over the social security

Who said being old isn't part of growing up?

Published April 16, 2010

I can't count the number of times I heard, "These will be some of the best years of your life," before coming to college.

College is probably the last time it's still socially acceptable to show up to important morning functions hung over (or still drunk), make a concerted effort not to have your job conflict with your TV schedule and only do laundry on breaks. We have to live it up before we start dealing with things like mortgages.

But, during these final years of official youth, I often find myself enjoying activities associated with elderly people more than I do those with college students. I'm not about to put on airs here and use terms like "mature" or "cultured" for this behavior, because it's not as if I'm writing this in my loft, listening to Prokofiev and eating some sort of confit. Rather, I looked forward to those high school service trips to the old age home, and I relate well to Woody Allen. Think Rose from "Golden Girls."

I've happily come to embrace my elderly habits.

Let's start with my favorite iPod touch app. Facebook? Wrong. Finger Tap? False. The brainless but classic Paper Toss? Alas, it is none other than NPR Addict. If you see me staring at the palm-sized screen for an extended period of time, I'm not gaming, I'm not being social. I am, in all likelihood, reading a book review. There's nothing like a good historical fiction critique to accompany the walk from Econ to French Civ. And while we're on the subject, I also I enjoy watching PBS specials. Just give me some public broadcasting, and I'll be a happy camper.

The iPod touch is technology though, which could arguably disqualify it from the realm of the elderly. But my tan-lines don't lie. Over spring break, my brother took me to the beautiful Redondo Beach near his home in California. Was there good surf? Were there cute boys? Well, I was busy stumped over a six-letter synonym for "embellishes," so I couldn't say (answer: adorns). We were in an intense crossword puzzle marathon, and I don't take word games lightly. Boggle, Scrabble, Catch Phrase if we want to get fancy — go big or go home is my motto. But back to tan lines, I had to endure the marathon lying on my stomach to avoid lower back pains. So if you notice a pigment difference between my front and back, blame those ambiguous word clues.

On the most daily basis, I find my morning routine is particularly demonstrative. First, it's a routine, and it actually begins the night before when I check the forecast and mentally select what to wear. Once my alarm goes off, I'm pretty much on autopilot. I like to start by taking my vitamin C powder, followed by a breakfast of muesli while I multitask and read the news. Sometimes I do go down to the dining hall, in which case I balance my adventurousness with some cream of wheat. The rest — brush teeth, wash face, wind watch — happens in an order that requires the least movement around the room as to conserve my energy for the big day ahead. Every morning, bright and early.

Short of liking Florida and orthopedic shoes, I have come to find many of my interests are shared with the elderly — sweaters, string quartets, the satisfaction of weeding a garden, Neil Young. Perhaps I take after Benjamin Button and come my senior citizenship, I'll subscribe to Cosmopolitan. Perhaps my grandma's challah French toast wooed me into her mindset at a young age. Perhaps I should be in nursing school.

I might never know the reason for the early arrival of my elderly ways, but I've my increased fiber intake and vocabulary, and that's good enough for me. You know that phrase "whatever floats your boat?" Well, my boat of youth is drifting along the waters of old age, and I couldn't be happier.