Don’t get me wrong getting older has its downsides. Aside from the most obvious one I won’t bother you with the rest. They’ll become painfully evident as life goes on. Besides I don’t want to, its boring and not a little bit self indulgent. So I’ve been collecting observations about getting older. Now these observations have to meet two qualifications. They have to be amusing, at the very least and they have to be part of being older.

I’ll give you an example. This morning when I got up I made a sound. No not that sound. That sound squeezes from all of us no matter the age, from an early age. No this sound is more like an ‘Ooooph!’. And make no mistake this ‘Ooooph!’ was a four ‘o’ Ooooph! not one of those two or three ‘o’ Ooophs! Those Oooophs are for young people, not us. I started ‘Oooophing’ a few years ago, I’d say around sixty-five.

“Dad sounds” my wife Mac would call them. She was much younger of course and couldn’t resist pulling my leg. I was good with that knowing that her time would come. As it has. It seems the ‘Ooooph!’ sounds are now an everyday part of the getting up experience bed, chair it matters not. And here’s a heads up for all you young punks. After say sixty-five you had better think twice about getting down on all fours to look under the bed for your missing slippers or to pull some weeds in the garden. It will never be easy again and will always extract an ‘Ooooph!’ from you on the down and on the way back up.

Now where was I? Ah yes, getting up this morning. Of course once you are up another challenge immediately presents itself. Putting one leg at a time into the leg hole on your underwear while standing, without losing your balance. Laugh as you will my young friend, when you are older it is a daily reminder.

“Yep, you’re definitely old now!”

Although on the bright side it can be turned into a daily measure of success worth celebrating.

“Yeeeeaaah, you still got it brotha’. Ooooph!”

And then that accomplished you’re on your way with a new day fresh with opportunity and adventure. Yeah, not so much. You’re on your way to doing Wordle and the New York Times connections puzzle just to check in with your brain first thing in the morning.

And there’s more. I cry now. A lot. While my children are entertained by harsh reality shows with all manner of people doing all manner of mean things to one another I search Netflix for romantic comedies. That’s my version of Netflix and chill. What I love about romantic comedies is how you never ever know the end until the very end when just before you’ve given up all hope that the two romantic leads will end up together, they end up together, kissing wildly, music swelling, fade to credits. Now that is a good time.

Those stories never fail to surprise me and equally without fail I always cry, usually a single tear dropping discreetly from my right eye, sometimes a full on double-cheeker, although I do have to acknowledge that it may all just be some allergic reaction to candles. Whatever! The point is I am more sentimental than at any other time in my life. I think I have more time to be sentimental, to embrace the lovely heart warming and simple emotions that I may have just been too busy for when I was younger. I’m good with it too. I feel good sitting in the dark, watching yet another romantic comedy, tears rolling down my cheeks. By the way, ‘Instant Family‘ on Netflix. Fabulous. A classic of the genre. You’re made of stone if you don’t cry at that one.

And nowadays I say ‘hello’ to everyone. Absolutely everyone. More than ever. Not so sure that’s an old man thing, I’ve been doing it all my life with such reward but I can see in the eyes of some of the people I say ‘hello’ to that the ‘stranger danger’ admonition from their childhood is quietly clanging in their cranium. It makes their eyes bulge. Of course, I’m harmless, that is pretty much what being old is but I get it. That aside I can’t get enough of the little conversational gifts that ‘hello‘ keeps on giving.

Recently, I was at Tomm’s Grocery near Deep Bay BC, a small seaside village about an hour north of Nanaimo on the east coast of Vancouver Island. We spend our summers there.

“Hello” I turned to the lady behind me, waiting to check out.

“Hello” she replied with the welcoming tone that signals she was okay to talk with me.

“I see you’re buying healthy food” she said, a leg pulling twinkle in her eye. She had spotted my bag of Munchies and Nanaimo bars, a sweet chocolate and cream bar absolutely loaded with sugars and carbs and all things delicious.

“Yes, I’m gaining favour with my grand children” I laughed.

“I have cinnamon buns for mine.” she said pointing to her handful of goodies.

“Life is short isn’t it” she said, more announcing than questioning.

I used to think that was trite, that saying but I don’t think that any more. Fact is life really is too short although that’s not what I want to talk about today.

“I’ll never forget my Scottish grandmother coming to Canada in the 60’s” I continued. “We took her all over BC and spent a weekend in Nanaimo. She loved the Nanaimo bars but what still makes me laugh is how she pronounced ‘Nanaimo’ in her thick Scottish accent.”

“Na – na- moh, I love those Na-na-moh bars” and no matter how often I would say ‘No Gran, it’s Nanaimo’ she would say “Aye child, that is what I said Na – na- moh’. So now of course I’m teaching my grandchildren that they are ‘Na-na- moh’ bars.”

“Next please.” the clerk announced.

And with a quick smile the time with my new lineup friend was over. All in all, not a bad return on ‘hello’ I’d say.

Well, that’s it me for this week. I’ve been trying to remember a really funny thing that happened last week but it evades me for the moment. It’ll have to wait. When you’re younger ‘last week’ is just a few days ago. When you’re my age ‘last week’ is a long, long time ago. Besides I have to get on with my day. Mac wants me to move a potter’s bench in the garden.

“Ooooph!.”