Is There Life After Retirement?

At about ten ‘till five this evening I had an overwhelming hankering for Chicken Marsala.  Yes, I have thawed boneless skinless chicken.  Yes on the wine, but no fresh mushrooms.  Was it worth making an eight-minute trip to Giant Eagle, just for the mushrooms when I already had canned ones?  Oh hell, yeah. 

Grabbing my handbag and slippers (flip flops to you mainlanders) I hit the garage door opener switch and noticed the sky was a little dark.  Hmmm. I thought.  It might rain later.  In the thirty seconds it took to start my car, fasten my seatbelt and back out, the sky began to slowly unleash what appeared to be buckets full of rain. By the time I pulled into the parking lot at 5PM, torrents were pummeling my car and everything else. After seriously considering just turning around and going home, I figured I’d just whine about not getting my Chicken Marsala, so I’d brave the downpour and hope I don’t melt. 

Put on my raincoat, put up the hood, realized I should put my shoulder strap handbag INSIDE of my raincoat, so I started all over again.  Grabbed the little red folding umbrella and proceeded to do that little game of opening the door against the now slanted rain quickly enough to not drench my car interior.  Achieving about a 60% success rate, I quickly went inside, straight to the produce aisle, slippers loudly squishing all the way.  I grabbed a package of very fresh sliced mushrooms, headed immediately to the che — oooh, sugar free pistachio pudding mix, wait – grabbed two boxes and headed to the checkout.  Unfurled my reusable grocery bag, chatted with the cashier for about 30 seconds and headed out. 

Out to barely a sprinkle.  Pulling into my driveway at 5:30 PM, I realized that weird squeaking sound was my wipers complaining about being on because my windshield was completely dry.

THIS is why I always leave a raincoat and umbrella in my car.  Oh and btw … the Chicken Marsala was seriously worth the schizophrenic weather errand.

Last week I overhead a 30-something coffee shop patron bragging to his 20-something latte infused companion that he was, in fact, older than Google. Experiencing a real “hold my beer” moment, I started thinking about what I can personally remember coming into existence. Hence, this post.

In no particular order, I am older than:

• Zip codes
• Area codes (Direct Distance Dialing!)
• Velcro patent
• Home computers
• Cassettes tapes for home use
• Space travel
• DVDs
• MRIs
• Digital cameras
• Polio vaccine
• Barbie dolls
• Non- glass milk bottles
• Pantyhose
• Attached gas caps

And since Bill Haley and the Comets recorded Rock Around the Clock when I was three months old, I like to think the Rock & Roll and I are the same age. R&R and I are both feeling our age, no doubt, but we’ve each had a great run. And we’re still going. Slower. Kind of hobbling. Not always sure what we are, but hanging in there.

What are you older than?