When was the last time you had to check an age bracket box?

You know, the brackets on forms that give age ranges like 25-29. I have to say I cringed a little when I had to select my age bracket box recently.

In fact, I almost cried. Why, you ask? Because I moved to a NEW age bracket. And not just ANY age bracket. 

For this particular online form, my new age bracket was the LAST available bracket box. 

Oh yes. You read that correctly.

There were no selections beyond 55+.

Shut the front door. This cannot be happening.

55+.

And what does the PLUS sign mean exactly in this sampling?

It’s as if the form said, “No explanation required. You are OLD, Jackie.”

OK, form. You can kiss my…

For your information, I am NOT old.

I’m in my 50s.

And I’m nowhere near the PLUS category!

Am I supposed to just give up and start playing Bingo at the senior center? Don’t get me wrong, I love Bingo. And I adore senior citizens. But I’m not ready to BE ONE! I am still 19…in my mind. (My body is a different story.)

This is well beyond the bracket where you qualify for the AARP membership packet by the way. Which I refuse to open quite yet (despite the enticing free gift). And it’s seven years before you qualify for social security. 

This is the age where you are a speed LIMIT. 

A speed limit! Sammy Hagar’s non-unobtainable speed limit. 

It’s old, without being too old. 

Think of this age bracket as being a high school freshman. 

You’re the new kid. 

You learn the rules at freshman orientation. 

You have to take required classes like bird watching, intro to medicare and fiber intake in order to graduate. 

You’re the youngest of the “seniors”.

You’re not invited to the cool group just yet.

You are almost out of your awkward middle-aged years but haven’t started truly “maturing” yet. 

You can’t go to prom without a date who is over 80.

You can’t sit with the popular kids until you are prescribed blood pressure meds.

You are told you’re a “YOUNG senior” at the pep rallies but all they really want is your vote for class president. 

You might qualify for independent lockers but they refuse to give you the combination. 

You are old enough to play Bingo but you’re only invited to play at your best friend’s house. 

You are not quite ready to make varsity because you are too young and agile.  

A senior befriends you but you find out they are using you for your freshman discount. 

You have to take defensive driving to renew your license.

Only the 8th graders (people in their 40s) think you are cool.  

Seniors (octogenarians plus) tease you and call you a spring chicken in the hallways. 

When you try out for a team sport, you are too old for varsity and over qualified for junior varsity. So you say eff it and play pickle ball during P.E.

Maybe you can start a freshman Mahjong team? Or a theater program where we can all act like we belong in the blue zone?

Here’s to being the youngest of the oldest and growing old as gracefully as possible. 

P.S. I think the only way to make varsity is to dye my hair gray and start dressing like Mr. and Mrs. Roper. XO