On Friday, I was at my daughter, Nikki’s, house in Covington, Louisiana, when I realized something about myself. I have begun experiencing the fears of the aging. Often at work, I tell the guys to be nice to me, because I’m old people. This usually happens when I recruit their help in finding the water bottle I’ve lost for the second time in thirty minutes or when I ask what date yesterday was for the third time, and Skyler tells me it’s still the 16th like it was the previous two times I asked. It was a different kind of agin