I turned 50 in May and didn't believe it would bother me at all. Well, it's bothered me a little.
  1. Everyone really wants to talk about it.
    The "big 5-0" means a lot in our decimal-driven world. Many people ask how I feel, apparently worried I may collapse at any moment. If we all spoke hexadecimal, then I would have hit the "big 3-0" two years ago. I'm not old, our number system is just behind the times.
  2. Too many doctor visits.
    In the six weeks since my birthday, I've had an EKG, worn a heart monitor, had an echocardiogram, and scheduled a colonoscopy. All to find that there's nothing wrong with me. I'm just terminally 50.
  3. Whole sections of pop culture are unavailable to me.
    A fifty-year-old man with no kids who listens to Taylor Swift is obviously a pervert.
  4. What's up with my car?
    I got a fun, fast car, just perfect for a bald man with a mid-life crisis. But apparently the car is having its own crisis. It's in the shop waiting for a tiny part that no one can locate in North America or Europe. Will they have to mine a new one on the moon?
  5. My buzzing nipple.
    At first I thought I was getting a text message on my phone in my chest pocket but, no, that's just my buzzing nipple. Or vibrating. Or twitching. For whatever reason, my left nipple keeps buzzing, like it's trying to tell me someone's at the front door. And try Googling that!
  6. The AARP doesn't love me.
    I always heard about how I'd get my card in the mail as soon as hit 50, that this would be the most painful proof of aging (those people didn't know about my nipple). Well, almost two months have gone by and no card. Sure, I could sign up online, but I'd prefer to sulk in my own passive aggression. Besides, now that I'm old, I don't know how that Web thing works anymore.