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Ah, the joys of growing older. I used to joke that we knew we’d arrived when we were offered senior discounts at restaurants without asking. We just laughed about it – now it’s not so funny.

Weird conversations due to our hearing don’t seem nearly as comical as they used to. The volume bar on our television is a mile long on the low side now and almost nothing on the loud. Having to find the phone via the locater is commonplace; trying to find what we had in our hand a couple of minutes ago is not as easy.

There are timers to start and stop cooking food when you’re not home, or even if you are. Our dryers know how much moisture is in the clothing and dry it accordingly. There is a beeper or buzzer going somewhere all the time. They need to say what they are so that we can find them.

I remember when I used to carefully check out a full-length mirror before buying it. I didn’t want it to make me look lumpy and bumpy. Now they’re all made that way. They don’t make cameras like they used either. I often don’t recognize the woman in my photos. And the print in books! Are the printers always low on toner? Are they trying to save paper with all that tiny print?

Remember when they first made cars that talked to us? A friend of mine still has one. She said it used to shout, “Slow down!” Now it whispers, “Speed up!”

We try to take things in stride with the passing years, but recently when I attempted to call someone on a remote and Bob tried to turn the fireplace off with a phone, I wondered if we’d already gone over the edge.

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