There's a dude who works at my supermarket who's taken to greeting me as "young man" (the first of a long line, I'd expect). This last time, I smiled jovially, and replied "I'm good! How are you today, genius?" He was offended (maybe it takes an actual genius to parse the equivalence).
A few years ago I crowed about how it was "The Hippest Time in History to be 48":
I'm the same age as Barack Obama, Jon Stewart, and Stephen Colbert. Never before has it been this hip to be 48 years old. When I was a kid, people like Jonathan Winters and Ed McMahon were crustily 48, and no one under 40 trusted anyone over 40. It makes it easier to be 48 when you're living at the hippest time ever to be that age.Well, that's over. I'm 52 and I look like I have one foot in the grave (as do, for that matter, Stewart, Colbert, and Obama). Problem is, I've never stopped feeling like the exact same person I've always been, irrespective of the old dude staring back at me in mirrors. Aging isn't tough; the hard part is people having more and more trouble seeing who I actually am. But I can't blame them. Appearances, after all, are the main thing they have to go on. If I had to look at me all the time (instead of existing obliviously nestled behind my own eyeballs), I'd surely have the same impression!