It's kind of hard to hide it.
Sometimes, it just smacks you in the face, like when the AARP magazine arrives in the mail or when you realize that something you think was just yesterday was really 30 years ago.
If you are alive, you get older each day, but sometimes the time sneaks up on you.
You see a picture of a gas station and you remember going there every day. You still go there. In the photo, gas is still in the dollar range, but when you filled up the pump this week, it was close to $4.
And you tend to spend a lot more time in the company of doctors.
Sentences start with, "You know when you are a person of certain age..."
It is like this is the next phase before you get the senior citizen discount or starting planning for the seniors' trip to the Wrentham Outlets.
I actually like being a "person of certain age." There is some mystery to it rather just being a senior. In fact, I'm going to lead a campaign to change my senior center to "a person of a certain age" center, just as soon as I have day without a doctor's appointment on my schedule.
We here at Patch are going to begin a series of "Best of" stories in our towns over the next few weeks. You'll be able to vote on what's the best in your town or the places you go.
While we've been planning this, I got to thinking of what is the "Best of" that I miss about those good old days.
I miss the old glass Coke bottles you got in the vending machines and collecting bottle caps with the photos of the old Boston Patriots.
I miss going to the dump with my dad and throwing the bags out of the station wagon into a big pile.
I miss hearing the grown-ups discuss politics at the dump.
I miss Sport Magazine with the big color photos of the big game.
I miss ice skating on a frozen pond with a cold wind blowing in my face.
I miss the thrill of talking into a clown to get a hamburger.
I miss those big cars with the big engines.
I miss going to the drug store to get a milkshake at the counter.
I miss baseball doubleheaders and bat day at the ballpark.
I miss watching the stars on the old variety shows.
I miss Johnny Carson.
I miss walking into the kitchen and smelling jams being made.
I miss eight-track tapes. You would put it in and hope it didn't break midway through your favorite song.
I miss long rides in the country when you weren't worried about taking out a mortgage to pay for the gas.
I miss when supermarkets had counters where you could order a Lime Rickey and a hamburger off the grill with little pickles on the side.
I miss when Sunday wasn't just extension of the other six days of the week.
I miss being able to make prank phone calls without being found out by call ID.
I miss the milkman leaving bottles on the front porch.
I miss the times when it didn't seem like we were always moving so fast.
Of course, those were all in the good old days. When you get to be a "person of a certain age" the age-remembering thing happens a lot.