George Singleton discussed the many signs of getting older on the eve of his 64th birthday in December 1990

George Buster Singleton

(For decades, local historian and paranormal investigator George “Buster” Singleton published a weekly newspaper column called “Somewhere in Time.” The column below, which was titled “How you can tell that you are getting older” was originally published in the Dec. 13, 1990 edition of The Monroe Journal in Monroeville, Ala.)

Before the sun sets Friday, I will have had another birthday. It’s strange how, as time moves along, each birthday takes on a different meaning. These days seem to come around faster and faster. There are certain signs that will tell you that you are getting old.

The first sign is that instead of looking forward to your birthday, you search for any information that might help you postpone that dreadful day. You look at the coming birthday as if it was a sort of sickness or a form of illness, such as the measles or mumps. You don’t mention to the family that you are approaching another milestone in your life. If you are asked about this birthday, you lie and tell everyone that you forgot it.

The second sign that you can look for is that there isn’t enough time in the day to do what you have planned. After a lot of careful planning, you find that you have forgotten what you had planned. This brings on a lot of confusion, so the best way to correct that is to forget all about it.

Another sign is that you always plan all the household chores for next week – the painting, fixing up various odds and ends, cleaning out gutters and jobs of that nature. You find yourself checking the weather report on the radio or watching the report on the boob tube. If it’s not going to rain, there’s no reason to clean out the gutters. There’s no reason to rake the yard. It will just get dirty again.

You keep thinking to yourself that you are just as young a man as you always were. But then each time you go to a place of business where there is a senior-citizen discount, the clerk or waitress looks at you and asks if you aren’t due that privilege. You look around to see if anyone is listening before you accept the discount.

Eyeglasses one sign

The dozen pair of eyeglasses that lie around were left by someone else. You don’t need eyeglasses, but for some reason the paper you are trying to read does not have to be held at arm’s length if you should put on a pair of those glasses.

Then again, all the reading, bill paying or letter writing is done when you are alone. That way there is no danger that someone might tell you that they didn’t know that you wore glasses. Here, you lie again. You tell them that you wear them just once in a while, just to be different.

Once the Social Security check starts, you hurry and have it sent directly to the bank where you do business. This stops the gossip from your mailman that you are over the hill. He knows, because he delivers that check at the beginning of each month. There’s no doubt about it. You never understand how the American Association of Retired Persons (AARP) found out your age. All kinds of mail starts coming, telling about the advantages of getting old.

You ignore all the senior citizens’ mail. You think to yourself that there has been a grave mistake. All of that trash is thrown in the garbage. Then, two weeks later, a second notice arrives, with the words printed in bold letters on the front of the envelope, “Don’t Miss Out,” or “This Is Your Last Chance” or “Take Advantage Now, Before It’s Too Late.” This type of stuff is supposed to make you feel good?

You slip one of your motorcycles out for a refreshing ride. The temperature is a cool 50 degrees. You are forced to stop for the first traffic light in town. A trusting soul drives up beside you, rolls the window down and yells so all can hear: “Aren’t you too old to be riding that thing? That’s for young people. You be careful.” You are tempted to do a wheelie down the street just to prove he doesn’t know what he is talking about.

Four motorcycles?

Then you remember that your wife told you to be careful. You force yourself to smile. You can hear the bones in your jaw crack in rebellion of what was just shouted at you. It has gotten a little chilly – should have worn that coat like the wife ordered you to do. And then there are these words: “A man your age don’t need four motorcycles. Who’s going to ride them all?” You catch yourself as you start to reply, “If I were a millionaire. I would own at least 20.”

Oh, well, as a man grows a little older, he becomes harder to understand. No one can believe why he might have wanted to go to the Middle East with the troops. The words, “I’ll bet you are glad that you are too old to go to the desert to fight with the rest of the guys. You retired at the right time, didn’t you? Bet you’re glad!”

But then, if one gets too remorseful, one can always look back. It hasn’t always been like this. There was a time when you were always in the thick of things. It seemed that nothing happened that you weren’t called on to be a part of. It has been a good life. You said yourself that this life has been a great challenge, and you wouldn’t have missed it for the whole world.

So, when the old birthday comes around the 14^th, I might just celebrate. Who knows what lies around the next bend? Someone might start an old man’s war, or something like that. Wouldn’t want to miss that, would you?

(Singleton, the author of the 1991 book “Of Foxfire and Phantom Soldiers,” passed away at the age of 79 on July 19, 2007. A longtime resident of Monroeville, he was born to Vincent William Singleton and Frances Cornelia Faile Singleton, during a late-night thunderstorm, on Dec. 14, 1927 in Marengo County, graduated from Sweet Water High School in 1946, served as a U.S. Marine paratrooper in the Korean War, worked as a riverboat deckhand, lived for a time among Apache Indians, moved to Monroe County on June 28, 1964 and served as the administrator of the Monroeville National Guard unit from June 28, 1964 to Dec. 14, 1987. He was promoted from the enlisted ranks to warrant officer in May 1972. For years, Singleton’s columns, titled “Monroe County history – Did you know?” and “Somewhere in Time” appeared in The Monroe Journal, and he wrote a lengthy series of articles about Monroe County that appeared in Alabama Life magazine. It’s believed that his first column appeared in the March 25, 1971 edition of The Monroe Journal. He also helped organize the Monroe County Museum and Historical Society and was also a past president of that organization. He is buried in Pineville Cemetery in Monroeville. The column above and all of Singleton’s other columns are available to the public through the microfilm records at the Monroe County Public Library in Monroeville. Singleton’s columns are presented here each week for research and scholarship purposes and as part of an effort to keep his work and memory alive.)