Slipping Away

Slipping Away



On March 1, 1991, I checked into a hotel room with my new wife. Yes, it was our Honeymoon. Our first night together as man and wife. It’s funny, I don’t even remember how we paid for things back then. I didn’t have a credit card. Debit cards were in their infancy. I may have written a check, which seems absurd now, but I really don’t remember. What I do remember is what the young lady behind the desk ask me.

“Are you a member of any discount groups like AARP?”

That stands for American Association of Retired Persons. It was for old people. I looked to see if there was a laugh hiding behind the question. There wasn’t. She was dead serious.

I looked at my new wife and just shook my head. Poor girl, I guess I thought. I know she’s just asking a question on a form that she had to, but, hell, look at us. I am twenty-five years old. Do I look like I need to be a member of AARP? I thought it was funny.

Time creeps, though. Creeps like the lava of a slowly erupting volcano, starting out in the distance, just biding its time, so slowly at first you dare ignore it thinking there’s no way it can get me. Of course, it’s gotten everyone else over the course of recorded and unrecorded history, but I am different. I am not going to be gotten.

But time doesn’t care what I think. It moves forward. It creeps. Just like the lava, it eventually consumes everything in its path, burning it up until it’s gone. It doesn’t care that I work out, run, read, go to church. It doesn’t care that I have learned to conserve energy and get more work done that even when I was a younger man. It cares about none of those things.

The lava of time just keeps on creeping, steady and true, oozing forward, taking y life one second at a time. By the time I first felt the heat of the lava time, I know it is too late. There is nowhere to run. There never was. It will get me eventually.

My lava caught up with me just last week. I came in from work one afternoon and there it was, sitting on the counter, laughing its ass off at me.

A promotional envelope from AARP.

That’s not fair.

I am still twenty-five.

What in the hell just happened?

I thought of that little girl behind the desk of the hotel I had checked into all those years ago, how funny it was when she asked me if I was a member of AARP. What a laugh my wife and I had shared over that one.

Only I wasn’t laughing so much.


About timkeen40

When I was seven, I opened one of those little Golden Books (Lassie) and started copying the words down on paper and it set my soul on fire. I have been writing ever since. I don't know where this is going but I invite you along on the journey.
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23 Responses to Slipping Away

  1. prenin says:

    Tempus fugits as it may,
    and all our dreams do fade away,
    And with them our immortality… 🙂

    God Bless!


  2. timkeen40 says:

    Alas it so, I am but a mere mortal. So far though, except for a few aches and pains, time has been gracious. Thanks as always, prenin.


  3. I had to go and look up what AARP was. Now I am laughing lol… 🙂 🙂

  4. timkeen40 says:

    I didn’t realize I hadn’t made it clear what AARP meant. Thanks for pointing that out. I have updated the blog to explain.
    Of course, the girl who asked that question back then had no idea what it meant, either. She was just asking a question. That young girl is likely in her forties. I wonder if she has had the same revelation about the significance of AARP as I have.

    Thanks as always for stopping by.


  5. YellowCable says:

    So good! I love it. Time does not really care of anything, it just does one thing, one track of mind.

  6. I enjoyed reading this. Though I have achieved the biblical “three-score and ten”, I am still eleven years old in my own mind.

  7. Jane Sturgeon says:

    I am still 22 inside …….;-)

  8. Great story, Tim. Yes, I also still feel 25, although i do love to be called granny. 🙂

  9. AmyRose🌹 says:

    Time …. allusive and slippery. Where does it go? Really enjoyed this post! Thank you! ❤

  10. energywriter says:

    Thank you for following me. I’m now following you. Your AARP story really hit home.

  11. Sorry for laughing! Yes, the old lava creep enters the front door and looks back at us in the mirror too. And I can relate to the strange phenomenon of feeling 25 on the inside…for decades. I remember my 86-year-old grandmother telling me she was 18.

  12. This post brought such a smile to my lips. My guy was so mad when AARP started sending things, he wouldn’t even look at it – just threw it in the trash with a few choice words. I’m 7 years his junior, so I admit, I made some snarky remarks. But then, when MY envelope arrived in the mail, I wasn’t laughing.
    Besides, nowadays, 50 isn’t even middle age yet, is it?

  13. reocochran says:

    Hey, I got my AARP magazines and discounts since age 50. I loved when I could see Kevin Costner, Robert Redford and other older men I used to “love” while my girls liked the ones with special women on the cover who they enjoyed music, books and in films. 🙂

  14. Haha – most people are pretty bad at guessing age anyway. People never get mine right, and it’s a frequent source of amusement and frustration. Great story!

  15. reocochran says:

    I love my AARP magazines and discounts. My Walgreens card is directly connected, too. I get extra discounts! 🙂

  16. macjam47 says:

    Haha! I remember being carded when I was in my early thirties with 2 children and one more on the way. That seems so long ago now. Time keeps slipping away and there’s no way to slow it down. Enjoyed your post very much.

  17. Hey
    I went through and found it very interesting.
    You could visit my blog too.

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