CROWN - Croatian World Network - http://www.croatia.org/crown
(E) Aging
http://www.croatia.org/crown/articles/6369/1/E-Aging.html
By Nenad N. Bach
Published on 05/16/2006
 


AGING


Have you ever been guilty of looking at others your own age and thinking, "Surely I can't look that old!" Well, you are gonna
love this one.

I was sitting in the waiting room for my first appointment with a new dentist when I noticed his diploma hanging on the wall. It bore his full name and I suddenly remembered a tall, handsome dark-haired boy with the same name. He had been in my high school class some 40-odd years before and I wondered if he could be the same guy I had a secret crush on way back then??

When I got into the treatment room I quickly discarded any such thought.
This balding gray-haired man with the deeply lined face was much too old to have been my secret crush... or was he???

After he examined my teeth I asked if he had attended MorganParkHigh School.

"Yes, I did. I'm a Mustang!" He said, gleaming with pride.

"When did you graduate?" I asked.

"1959. Why do you ask?" He answered.

"Well, you were in my class!" I exclaimed.

Then that ugly, old wrinkled son of a bitch asked, "What did you teach?"


(E) Aging


AGING


Have you ever been guilty of looking at others your own age and thinking, "Surely I can't look that old!" Well, you are gonna
love this one.

I was sitting in the waiting room for my first appointment with a new dentist when I noticed his diploma hanging on the wall. It bore his full name and I suddenly remembered a tall, handsome dark-haired boy with the same name. He had been in my high school class some 40-odd years before and I wondered if he could be the same guy I had a secret crush on way back then??

When I got into the treatment room I quickly discarded any such thought.
This balding gray-haired man with the deeply lined face was much too old to have been my secret crush... or was he???

After he examined my teeth I asked if he had attended MorganParkHigh School.

"Yes, I did. I'm a Mustang!" He said, gleaming with pride.

"When did you graduate?" I asked.

"1959. Why do you ask?" He answered.

"Well, you were in my class!" I exclaimed.

Then that ugly, old wrinkled son of a bitch asked, "What did you teach?"