I was sitting in church on Easter Sunday just surveying the room. The service was going way longer than normal, my mind was elsewhere, and my late-onset hangover was coming in hot. To be honest, I really didn't know anyone there. For whatever reason, you're just not seeing a ton of 28 year-olds in church these days.
As my eyes gazed up and down the congregation, I noticed a few different groups of people. As our church service started with a "children's sermon," I saw a bunch of kids happily sprinting up to the front of the church just getting jacked to hear an Easter story from this British woman. I'm not sure I'll ever look as excited as they did at any given moment in my life from this point on. Next, we had the high schoolers who spent more time on their phones than they did listening to the minister, and all the guys had that whole peach-fuzz-mustache thing going on. Above them, we had all of these kids parents who, honestly, just looked pretty beaten down at this point.
But then, then we had the true ballers. The elders. The seasoned vets. The straight-up old people. In looking at this group, I saw that they either fell into one of two camps. They were either happy as hell or had completely mailed it in, both of which I couldn't be more jealous of because I started having these realizations that there are a million reasons I'm psyched to be old.
Silver Fox Factor
I've been wanting a touch of grey since I was like six years-old. When I look at my relatives, I can clearly see that it's pretty much a certainty that I won't go bald, so the only other natural trajectory of my hair is going to be to go grey.
"But Scaries, I found a grey hair while I was getting ready for work the other day and it spiraled me into a quarter-life crisis. It was awful." Au contraire, bro. This is the start of something beautiful.
Roger Sterling? Ted Danson? George Clooney? Ballers on ballers on ballers. Shit, I may even dye my hair white and update my resume to say "Silver Fox Club, 2015-Present" just to add an "esteem" factor to it. They say, "to whom much is given, much is expected," so if you've been given a full head of hair late into your life then you better max out on peacocking it.
Let Myself Go
Everyone knows I've been bending over backwards to get my body high and tight for Wedding Season. All of these societal standards keep telling me, "Scaries, you're not allowed to be fat, man." But when you hit your stride in your golden years? The only person that cares about your physical state is your nagging wife (who, in all honesty, probably doesn't have the flair she used to either). After all, it's not like you're going out trying to land girls or training for half-marathons. Face it, you're old. It's all downhill from here when it comes to your physique.
Below is a list of things you may hear me say around the country club at the age of 73:
"Can I get an extra side of mayo for this club sandwich?"
"I noticed the iced tea was a little bland - throw some sugar in it."
"Yeah, so I'll get a large vanilla malt in a styrofoam cup for my 12:12 tee time."
Because when you're old, every day is a cheat day.
There are three certainties in life: death, taxes, and old people saying anything they want because no one will judge them. They're old, they've earned the respect, and they don't want some little snot-nosed punk to tell them otherwise.
Pretty waitress? You can hit her with a, "You're a tall glass of water there, miss." Grandson out of line and listening to too much metal music? "Get off your phone and go throw the pigskin, you little shit." Chilling at the country club casual bar? You can toss out a "Hey Rich, go fuck yourself!" follows by a hearty laugh and no one will even think twice.
Wardrobe Game Strong
If you're under the age of 70 and you're wearing a turtleneck under a green blazer over a pair of white slacks, people are going to think you're a dickhead. Over 70 and in that exact same outfit?
I bought a monogrammed turtleneck in 2013 in preparation for holiday parties and I'm fully aware that it's a polarizing look. I'm hoping this early investment lasts me all the way through 2050 when people will look at me and just be like, "That old dude gets it" instead of, "Who's that mid-20s asshole with the monogrammed turtleneck and gelled hair?"
Because at that age, you've probably accumulated apparel pieces from every trend that's ever come and gone. My dad's closet is like a time capsule of WASPy awesomeness that has something for every occasion.
My main goal in life is to be forced into early retirement. Anyone that thinks they'd get "bored without a job" needs to do some introspective soul searching and find a hobby. You know how they say, "If you do what you love, you'll never work a day in your life"? Well that's a crock of shit unless your job entails slamming beers on a golf course before heading to a twilight baseball game with party subs and an open bar.