The Weirdness of Being 60 Something

A Story of Mouth Changes and Tummy Oddness

I turned the big 6–0 last year and figured like most Americans who believe forty is the new thirty and fifty is the new forty, that sixty would be the new fifty.

I was wrong.

Sixty is not the new anything. It’s old. Sixty is the decade where you finally confront it. With many still retiring at sixty-five, and wills that need to be updated, and teeth that start seriously betraying you, it’s time to (kinda wrinkled) face up. It’s not exactly the ravages of time, it’s more like the “sure to get worse but now small” ravages that are sure to creep in like earthworms. You KNOW they are going to replicate on their own.

Not to frighten anyone, but more as a public service to my fellow sixty-somethingers, I’ve compiled a short list of the:

Rules of Being Sixty

1. Don’t drink orange juice after 4 p.m.
2. Purchase nail-thickening everything. (They get papery.)
3. No more gum chewing unless it’s the “safe for dental work” kind.
4. Steamed broccoli only! No more raw, cruciferous anything. Ever.
5. Roasted Brussel Sprouts are now your favorite food.
6. No more chomping on raw nuts. Nut butters are your new go-to.
7. After a long break, like since kindergarten, you may once again eat celery with peanut butter in the groove…