Being fifty, that is.I'm reasonably unlined for my age (thanks to a slavish devotion to moisturizer and exfoliation). I don't have gray hair. Yes, it's easier to put weight on and harder to take it off, so I won't claim to look great for my age. But I do assert that I look pretty damn good for fifty. That's not what makes me uncomfortable.
It's the number itself. A FIVE and a ZERO. I don't like looking at it. I don't like entering it as my age on surveys. When I see it, it doesn't feel like it has anything to do with me.
For example, just now, I thought I'd kill the time before my 2:00 meeting by visiting the San Diego Union-Tribune's website and catching up on the exploits of my beloved Future Hall of Famer, Greg Maddux. There was a little "tell us about yourself" pop up that appeared on the site. All they wanted to know were gender, zip code, and … um … age. Ick. (It doesn't help my mood that my beloved's record is 3-5, either.)
