Being an older man in old-time Phoenix

As someone who has been drifting into his senior years for quite a while now, I'm comfortable being described as an older man. There's an important distinction between "older man" and "old man", and I would dislike being called an old man, unless of course you were a cheerful RAF pilot during World War II.

And now I'm thinking about how it would have been to be an older man in old-time Phoenix. And my best guess is that it would have been about the same. When, exactly, someone becomes "older" of course depends on the ages of the people look at them. People didn't live as long back in the day as they do now, and with the widespread use of tobacco, and less dental care, I'd imagine that people started looking older, by our standards, younger, if you follow me there.

If we time-travel back to 1904 (that's the Fleming Building there, on the northwest corner of Washington and 1st Avenue), and be older men, we may be respected by the young whipper-snappers, or scoffed at. We would know stuff that takes age to learn, like how and when to file a report with the Sheriff (for example) or how escrow works, or where to get the best interest on a savings account. We would know how to hitch up a team, but wouldn't have the slighted idea how the new technology of "automobiles" works. Age would have probably taken a lot of our teeth, and chances are that we would whistle when we talk, which would make the young folks giggle. "Yessiree, ssssonny, you can get good interesssssst on your ssssavingssss at the Phoenix National Bank!"

Speaking for myself, while I'm prepared to me an older man, and am happy to be there, I really can't imagine being an old man. And by that I mean decrepit, dazed and confused, maybe sitting around all day complaining about the government, or trying to remember what I had for breakfast. And I know that day will come for me, but it's off in the future. I plan on getting older.

Thank you for getting older with me!

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