You Know You’re Getting Older When…

        I know that age is a relative concept, relative on any given day in mind, body and spirit. I used to think that someone was old if they were fifteen years older than I was and someone was young if they were fifteen years younger and really young when they asked if the car had been invented when I was a kid. (Don’t be smart!)

          But as I find myself progressing up the age scale, there are some other signs to remind me that I am not as young as I used to be.

          I don’t race to the door anymore to go into a store. If the door doesn’t open automatically I often find a teenager offering to hold the door for me. Do I look that frail and feeble? But the thought is nice and the offer polite and genuine. (That’s a topic for another column.) What throws me is when they use the word ‘sir’. ”May I help you sir?” Sir was always relegated to my father or grandfather.

          You may realize that you are getting older when one of your best friends becomes the nightlight that lights a pathway to the bathroom in the middle of the night. That never used to be a problem. So its one less glass of water before bedtime, but that doesn’t always work either.

          I can remember when the ‘early bird special’ was an early morning sale at Porteous, not dinner served at three o’clock in the afternoon at the local ”all you can eat buffet”. Oh well, the parking lot is too full to stop now anyhow. (Anyone remember Porteous besides me?)

          I still see myself as a product of the 1960’s. What a great generation! The world was a mass of confusion, the music and literature spoke of a counter-culture and rebellion. The Beatles, Mick Jagger’s Rolling Stones and Peter, Paul and Mary were the rage in the music world. It was a generation defined by Woodstock, long hair and drug use. Interesting how some things never seem to change. Is that Mick Jagger being helped to the stage?

          The type of the mail being delivered to the house seems to have changed. What used to be advertising for travel and sports equipment has shifted to direct mail prescriptions services and senior citizen assisted living facilities. The highlight of the month is the arrival of the AARP magazine. Who will be on the cover this month? Do I look that old?

          Growing older isn’t all bad though. In fact there are some real pleasures. Grandchildren, sleeping late (after the trip to the bathroom), traveling during the ‘off season’, senior discounts and not wearing a wrist watch are just several of the rewards.

          There is a perspective about life that being older offers. Each generation feels that its problems and issues are new and unique when in reality we have been there before, just with a different twist. It is unfortunate that we can’t learn from our mistakes.

          See how much wiser I am now that I am older?

You too, could be the next 'American Picker'...

   One of my favorite shows on television is American Pickers. I don't watch is continuously nor am I addicted to it. I don't record it on my DVR, but I do watch it often, especially when I want to get caught up on what's hot in the world of 'picking and collecting' or when a need to do a reality check on prices and how much people may be willing to pay for “stuff,” maybe not in Maine though. But at least the show does give me a general idea of what items may be worth and for me, they are more entertaining that watching professional sports these days.

It has been rumored that not too long ago the show spent some time in Maine, not that we would have many folks around that fill up their tool sheds, garages or attics with rusted out cars, old gasoline tanks, early metal signs, old toys and games or antique motorcycles. The list goes on.

   But after spending many Sunday mornings at local auctions, stopping along the roadway at a yard sale or on occasion, just poking around empty an old barn, I may be wrong. There are many who just put “stuff” away somewhere in hopes that in the future it may bring a big score in dollar value and someone will offer them lots of money. And it seems that there is very little that doesn't have some value to someone. Old tobacco tins are always very popular.

   A few years ago, tucked away in the woods in a rural Piscatiquis County town (northern Maine) among the trees were many old cars, trucks and school buses, dating back to the 1940's. During the late 40's and early 50's many cars were shipped north from Boston after the war and sold to the locals as cars and other vehicles were difficult to get in rural areas. During the war much of the manufactured steel had been used to makes boats, tanks and weapons.

   Over the years though, many of the cars that were destined to live out their lives in the woods, were either restored or became props in Hollywood movies as directors learned of their existence tucked away in the Maine woods and they were quite willing to buy and ship them to California and restore them to some degree their former beauty.

   I was fortunate to be given an old sign from an early school bus which still hangs proudly in my home and is something that has more value to me as a memory and a gift than any amount of dollars someone might be willing to pay.

  In a recent episode of American Pickers, as Mike and Frank searched the contents of one of six outbuilding on an elderly man's property, the two became somewhat overwhelmed by the number of items that had been collected and saved. Not only was it like going back in history, but as Mike commented, it was “ like experiencing different times of this man's life.” Not only did it reflect different points in his living but in many cases what he had saved and collected also showed who he was as a person, what he valued and what he treasured.

   Deeper into the show it became obvious to the viewer, me that is, how difficult it was for him to give up many of his “treasures,” even if he was paid for the them.

   At the auction the other day,and one who is a people watcher, my attention was drawn to several people and by the way they were reacting, I could tell that some up the items up for sale this week had come from possible family members, perhaps a mother or father, or maybe a grandparent who had passed away. As they looked through the box of old photographs, it was obvious they were having second thought about having them sold. Would someone pay money to relive another family's life and history?

   I will never be an “American picker,” have my own television show or travel to the ends of the ends of the earth to buy a rusty 1931 Ford roadster. Maybe I should. I could make a few bucks. But, I admit that I do like to poke around every once and awhile, maybe even at the local 'dump'. But with new “No Dump Picking Allowed” signs and all these shows on television now, people just are not throwing things away like the use to.