Growing old not in the cards

In another section of this week’s newspaper, we have a special section called 50-plus Lifestyles. The section is filled with information and advertising geared to those over 50. I hate to admit it, but I’m one of those.

Turning 30 never bothered me. Ditto when I celebrated my 40th. But now that I’m long past 50, I got to unequivocally say, I don’t want to get old. Or maybe I should say, I can’t get old. Why?

-because I have a ten-year-old child, my only kid, that I have to take care of.

-because I have no retirement, life insurance or health insurance thus I will be working until I die, and God forbid if my excellent health ever turns south.

Thus when AARP sends me a mailing each month offering a briefcase or small piece of luggage if I sign-up and officially become a senior citizen, the mailing goes right into the trash can. I refuse to take advantage of senior citizen specials- I simply cannot or will not get old.

I am jealous of those that have adequately planned for their retirement. My dad was able to retire at 60. He spent a third of his life living it up in sunny Florida, not having to worry about where his next paycheck came from. My brother-in-law, a state cop, will retire by age 55. My brother, who has worked for Oakland County, all of his adult life, will also retire at 55.

And me. I chose to be an entrepreneur. I chose to own my own businesses. I chose to put money in businesses versus a retirement plan. Now that I’m approaching the time I should be kicking back and on the golf links each morning I’m up at 6, readying for a 10 plus hour work day.

Am I the new version of 50-plus? I very well could be. The rocking chair and countless hours watching television is not for me. No I’d rather be out in my boat¸ or on the basketball court.  The only thing I watch on the boob tube is sports. I’d much rather be entertained by Facebook or video games.

My diet is that of a teenager. I feed my tummy plenty of McDonald French fries and chocolate shakes. I love pizza and eat a cheese and pepperoni once a week- sometimes twice.

Regular check-ups or hospital visits are not for me. I can’t tell you the last time a medical professional examined me. I could be filled with cancer, I suppose, and not even know it. But hey, I’m rarely sick, am not overweight, and do get quite a bit of exercise.

I guess I attest to the theory that the new 50, is actually 40, and the new 70 is actually 55. At least I’d like to think I have plenty of time left to grow old. Right now, I still have way too much to experience to even think about being a typical senior citizen.