WIT STOP

I'm Not a Senior Citizen, but at My Age Who Would Believe Otherwise

Retirement is a glorious time of our lives. It's when you can sit back leisurely and think of all the things you should have said to the boss. It's when you can get out of bed anytime you want to... and as many times during the day as you want to, also. Retirement is one of the few pleasures in life that isn't wasted on the young. And this is the state for it. Arizona's climate and many "Active 50s" developments attract senior citizens here.

However, not all of our citizens are senior citizens. Even some of us who may look it are not yet retired. I wish some of our clerks would realize that. Last week I went out with three of my friends to play some golf. I said to the clerk in the pro shop, "Can you get a starting time for me and my friends here?"

"Sure can," he said. "When would you like to play?"

"As soon as possible," I said.

"These guys are patsies, and I need the money."

"You can go off right now if you like."

"Perfect," I said. "How much is it for 18 holes and a cart?"

"Depends," he said. "Are you a senior citizen?"

"I don't know. What age do you..."

"Are you over 65?"

I said, "No."

He said, "Yes, you are."

"What?"

"You don't have to be ashamed of it," he said.

"I'm not ashamed of it."

"Then you admit you are over 65."

"No, I don't."

"A lot of people are over 65."

I said, "That's wonderful, but I'm not one of them... yet."

He said, "Your friends look like they're all over 65."

I said, "They're all lousygolfers, too, but that doesn't mean I'm one of them."

He said, "You get a big discount if you're over 65."

I said, "I'm not over 65."

"You said you needed the money."

"That was a joke," I said.

"That's wonderful that you can joke at your age. That's what'll keep you young,"

"Why should I stay young?" I asked. "You're not going to believe me anyway,"

"I'm surprised at you," he said. "You should be proud of your age,"

"I am proud of my age," I said. "And when I get to be the age you think I am, I'll be proud of that, too. But I'm not there yet."

"Yeah, well, that's what you say."

"No, that's what my birth certificate says."

He said, "Hey, it's not like I'm going to ask for your birthcertificate or your driver's license or anything like that. You just tell me you're over 65, and I'll give you a 40 percent discount to play golf, that's all."

certificate or your driver's license or anything like that. You just tell me you're over 65, and I'll give you a 40 percent discount to play golf, that's all."

"How 'bout if I just tell you I'm under 65, and you charge me whatever the going rate is to play golf here?"

"Hey, whatever you say. You want to pay full price to lie about your age, it's no skin off my nose."

"Fine," I said, "I'll pay the full price; you'll have a complete nose, and I can get out there on the tee with my buddies."

He started to ring up the transaction then changed his mind. "No," he said, "I'm not going to let you do it."

"Do what? All I want to do is play golf."

He said, "I'm not going to let you be ashamed of your age like this."

I said once more, "I'm not ashamed of my age."

He said, "With the new vitamins and miracle drugs they have nowadays, you can stay looking young forever."

I said, mostly to myself, "That's about the same time as it's taking me to get on this course."

If he heard it he ignored it. He said, "I've got an uncle who's 87 years old and doesn't look a day over 70."

"Then how do you know he's 87?" I asked.

"He told me."

"And you believed him?"

"Sure."

"Then why won't you believe me when I tell you I'm not 65?"

He said, "Because I think you're tormenting yourself by not owning up to your age. You're over 65."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"Am not."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"I know you are."

I gave in. Surrendered totally. I said, "Okay, you're right. I confess. I'm 67 years old."

He said, "Really?"

I said, "Yeah... 67 years old in June."

He said, "Boy, you'd never know it."

"Thank you," I said with no enthusiasm.

"No, really. You don't look a day over 62."

He rang up the transaction. I paid about half of what I should have paid to play golf, got my receipt, and started out to join my friends for a game of golf that I hoped would help me forget the travail of trying to sign up for a game of golf.

He shouted to me before I could get out of the pro shop, "Hey!"

I turned. "What?"

He said, "Enjoy your game, Pops."