Am I old?

'Am I old?' is a question I ask more and more these days.  Today especially, because I did something new.  Or different.  Today, I cancelled an airline trip because I felt like shit, so to speak.  I couldn't inflict myself, in that state, on my wonderful hosts.

And then, resigned to staying in and beer-less, proceeded to Whole Foods, the neighborhood market.  (Soon, I hear, to be joined by Fairway Tribeca.)  As I left my home,

 I felt great to be out and thought: "what have I done".  Never having not made a pleasure journey on account of health, it made an impression.  That is something that, if we live to old age, we will do, and now I have done it.  It marks an experience, a stage, in life.  

And then, I felt pretty good.  And I thought what if I should have gone, and felt 'Oh mi god, am I old?'.  And I walked across the street, into 

Whole Foods and salad, bananas, and beer where - sadly - Old Rasputin is missing.  and I spoke with the staff who are excellent and knowledgeable, and reality enters, I begin to cough uncontrollably and know why I will be in NY this weekend.  

On the way home, I think of the other market.  Food Emporium: 

the standard, dour, old style supermarket: poor selection, awkward aisles, unhelpful staff, and high prices. A dinosaur. Why could Food Emporium not see beyond itself?

So, back home with my kitty, my wife, my Founder's Breakfast Stout, and thoughts of what might have been.  Kitty climbs on my lap which makes typing awkward.  I persevere.

Am I old?  What is it to be old?

I do one thing a day.  I am happy, not dissatisfied.  Lou Reed died Sunday. 'A young man.' as the oldest generation always says. None of my or my wife's ancestors are living.  We are the oldest generation. So yes and no.  We are old yet not old, not withdrawn.  Still part of the river.

Life continues and so do I.  I am posting again.

And time has passed and it is time to move on.