No country for old men?

Here is yet another Monday morning, and yet another attempt to haul my tired ass out of bed, pour myself into my car, get myself to work.

Someone told me once, "Fifty is the new 40." Meaning nowadays when people turn 50, they are more like people used to be when they turned 40. By extension that would mean that I would feel like a 50-year-old, but no, I feel my chronological age. I remember 50, and it didn't feel like this. Like everything else in our universe my parts are starting to wear out and those parts are letting me know of the wear and tear I've put on them.

I looked on some biographical web sites, and saw that Senator John McCain was born August 25, 1936, which makes him 71. If he were elected he'd be 72, then if he were re-elected and lived out his term he'd retire at 80.

On the other hand, Senator Obama is now 47, so by that sort of logic used with McCain, by the time he stepped down after eight years as President he'd be in his fifties, which means he could start a whole other career, much like Bill Clinton. It also means he'll be on the public dole, sucking down millions each year in Secret Service protection and pension.

I'm a few months older than Hillary, so she'd be barely past the age she could apply for Social Security. Does she qualify? Has she ever paid into the system? It seems, like Obama, she has done well for herself financially, and won't need to worry. Well, none of them will, elected or not.

They probably won't need to sign up for Medicare, either. Unlike civilized countries, which provide health care for their citizens regardless of age, we make our oldsters jump through hoops to get even the simplest care. A great perk of being the President is you don't have to make doctor appointments in advance ("I have serious pains in my chest." "OK, I can schedule you for six weeks from now.") Physicals, tests, you name it, on the house, baby! Come on in to the examining room, no need to take a number! We take care of those folks, but the riff-raff, uh-uh, can't do anything about you folks.

In their own respective ways, I see each candidate as an ideal age for the job; they all have maturity and life experiences. They haven't abused their bodies too bad, not based on what I'm seeing, anyway. It's only us poor working stiffs who've done that, and as I shift around in my chair and feel my aching back start to tighten in anticipation of the heavy work ahead of me for today, I'm made acutely aware of the working, and being stiff.