AGING AND IMMATURE

As a writer, I am finely tuned into how point of view can change the way a story is told. Point of view is a funny thing. Depending on who is looking at a given circumstance the scene can play out in infinite ways. In real life, it comes into play, too.

Take my age, for instance. I felt young when I was back on my college campus this weekend, and someone thought I was a student. When I laughed and said, “twenty years ago.”

She raised her brow and said, “Wow! You’ve held up well.”

The weekend before, I felt old. I went out to dinner with my family and ordered a margarita. I was surprised when the waitress asked for my I.D., feeling young again.

But then she kicked me in the gut by following up her request with, “We're required to ask everyone who looks under 50 for identification or we’ll get fired.”

Ugh! Needless to say, I was not so generous with her tip. (Just kidding, I’m not that petty).

My mother still tells the story of how my sister came home from nursery school and asked, “Mom, what are you, ten or something?” To a four year old ten was ancient!

When it comes down to it, it is not really chronological age that matters. What matters is how you feel, right? I’m young at heart and hope to always be. (Read that as, “Just because I’m getting older, doesn’t mean I’m not still immature).