We Grow Old...

When my parents retired and moved to the condo in Delray, my father made fun of the fact that most of the conversation turned around 2 things: CDs and doctors. The first was certificate of deposits, which in those days paid a hefty interest rate, and typically required a deposit of at least $10K. My father was amazed at how much money his fellow retirees seemed to have, as they talked about having "5 in this bank, and 8 in another."

The condo they moved to is decidedly downscale, so I wonder now how much was puffing by the former Northeastern civil servants, teachers, and the like. But the medical part -who found the best urologist and cardiologist -- to my Dad that meant he had become, truly, old. He was 60 at the time, and my mother was 59.

Wifey and I greet new neighbors to our 'hood, with a bottle of wine and the welcome packet. Last night, we went to say hello to our newest resident. His name, or nickname, in Neal, shortened from an apparently complicated and unpronounceable Indian name. Neal and his wife moved recently from Hong Kong.

Neal was charming and affable. He was supervising a major landscape project, and as we spoke, trucks and laborers adjusted lights and planted trees and shrubs. His wife was inside, though Wifey already received reports from other friends that she's an amazingly beautiful lady, originally from Pakistan. Seems like some nice additions to our 'hood.

As we chatted with Neal, and filled him in on local events, like the great peafowl scandal of '11 (he loves the critters and was shocked anyone would want to get rid of them), Wifey volunteered that we'd be happy to tell them which doctors in town were good.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! It's happened. I am become old, to paraphrase an ancient Hindu text...

She was being nice and helpful, of course, as we're friends with many local docs, and Wifey likes to help out friends and neighbors. In an interesting reversal of our natures, I USED to be the one referring everyone to everyone. Lately, I keep my mouth shut, as I've found the axiom no good deed goes unpunished to be true. Wifey, who never was the "connector," has become so -- volunteering service people and jewelers and, now, horrors, DOCTORS to near strangers.

I'm there, of course, at the age of decline and decrepitude. I recently had a urological scare typical of aging men. When I walk around, I hear echoes of my father as he used to grunt through neck and back pain.

But can't we stick to recommending , oh, parks and restaurnants? Maybe great liquor stores. Even Books and Books -- yeah -- that's what I want to talk about.

Not doctors -- the people old folks share, a la Jackie Mason ("My doctor is such a big shot, you can't even get in to see him!").

I'm thnking of resigning my position as Welcome Chair -- to Wifey. She likes people more and more as I like them less and less.

In other words, I AM becoming older and more crochety...