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Show ROLLO-GLYPHICS By Klien Rollo out another year. Yes Sir, there's life in these old bones yet. It is no joke that people at every age tell you they are old, but you have to be a little old yourself to know that they do not know what they are talking about. Oh it takes a young man in his twenties to quip his Dad about being fifty-seven. Of course he's only joking, but down in his heart he figures his Dad for an old man, and feels his Mom is getting up there too. Appreciate your youth at any age you happen to be, at ninety you will see how funny you are. I refuse to admit that eighty is useless, that the world does not want or need you. At this point you have my word on it: life is always a challenge, its aches and pains are worth the price of each new day. It isn't age that kills and defeats you, it is illness and sadness. It is worth trying for the glad heart that doeth good like medicine. Spread the word; life can be very good at eighty. All of us seem to be concerned con-cerned about our age. We're either too young, or too old. Never just right. Recently I ran across an article dealing with this subject written by Sylvia Swenson Hughes in the Spanish Fork Press. I thought you might enjoy her comments. "All too soon we begin to tell ourselves we are old, are show inn a crey hair or two, are findin:.' wrinkles here and l hero. This is the reversal lime from when we wanted to be older faster. The tiny girl wearing Mommies high heels, getting a sudden fondness for long nylons and enjoying Mommies hats and purses. The young lad eagerly searching for the first whisker. Then comes the backward searching for age signs and symbols, imaginary at first, and then actually a little sagging, a little spreading unnoticed before. Especially a girl at twenty feels certain guilt pangs unless she has prospects. A young '"an's envied bachelor status can last a little longer. At thirty you begin really having doubts, at forty though you can joke about it. After all life begins at forty doesn't it? Fifty has an ominous sound, how can a man or woman at fifty possibly realize they are at prime time, at last mature, over most of their foolishness and among the ' world's great? At sixty you begin to realize your parents were always old but very smart and at seventy you find yourself a little shocked that you hadn't died yet. You have to arrive at eighty before you can finally realize how wonderful life is and how foolish it was to ever believe you were old at any age. Looking back you can easily wonder: were you ever so young. At eighty you know that anything under a hundred is young. And try to tell a Centennarian that he is through. Any confrontation with him is proof that he will put forth every effort to last |