I am 64 years old. In a little less than a year, I will be eligible for Medicare. I get Senior discounts at some restuarants, movie matinees, and a few department stores on Tuesdays.

My throat has a spiderweb of fine lines running across it. My face has furrows: smile lines, laugh lines, frown lines, worry lines, squint lines, and lines that just showed up because they heard my face was the place to be.

Gravity is doing its thing, too. I am getting perilously close to having jowls. The bags under my eyes are growing their own bags.

And it goes without saying that it is only the miracle of better living through chemistry that turns my hair color back to something other than gray.

So do you know what I have smack dab in the middle of my chin? One large, shiny zit! WTF!!!!!

Bet you didn't know till just now that 64 is the new 16.