My brain is much younger than the rest of me.

It started out as an occasional thing, but has since rapidly picked up in frequency. I’m referring to the use of my last name.

There isn’t much else that’s more of a reality check than when most folks start calling you mister.

“Mr. Moore, it’s nice to see you!”

“It’s nice to see you, too. Please, call me ‘John’.”

“OK, Mr. Moore.”

Sigh.

Most of us feel the same exact way that we did when we were 18-years-old. In our minds, we are still young, vibrant, and without wrinkles. In my mind, I look like a young Clint Eastwood. In my mirror, I look like the current Clint Eastwood.

The reality is that no matter how old we get, our brains are the only thing left in our bodies that feel this way. Our brains could go another 75 years. My back, knees and feet all wanted to retire during the second Clinton administration.

Of late, a larger number of young people now call me ‘Mr. Moore’. When I say a larger number of young people, I mean virtually all of them. I still feel as if I’m their age, but obviously, I look old enough to be called ‘mister’.

I was raised to be polite. The understanding was that anyone who was considered older was to be addressed as ‘mister’ or ‘missus’, and respectfully answered with ‘sir’ and ‘ma’am’. That’s how these young folks were obviously raised as well.

I never realized until now just how painful manners could be.

Don’t get me wrong; I’m really pleased that there are parents who are teaching their children to be polite. If you have taught your children in this way, you are to be commended, and I thank you. I believe that decorum in the social hierarchy is the way to go, I’m just not sure I’m supposed to be included yet.

Hollywood is full of older folks, yet they seem to have avoided the mister or missus salutations. Even Clint Eastwood is called ‘Clint’ or ‘Clint Eastwood’, not ‘Mr. Eastwood’. I bet that makes his day.

No one ever called George Burns, “Mr. Burns,” and he lived to almost 100. Liz Taylor was still being called ‘Liz’ until the day they carried her away.

Nope, it’s the average folk who are called mister or missus. But, I’ll take it. I was born an average fella, into an average family, and I’ll likely go out in an average way.

It’s just that having anyone call you mister is a sign that your younger days are behind you. But I’m handling it just fine. I’m hanging in there.

I just keep reminding myself that you have to be tough to get old. Because aging isn’t for young people.

©2015 John Moore
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