Hate Mail

I received something unexpected in the mail. Something unbelievably galling. Something excessively disturbing.

The AARP sent me a membership card.

Of course, it’s not a legitimate card because I’m not a member, but they want me to join!

Now let me state up front that I have nothing against the AARP and I recognize that they may attempt to solicit future members in order to increase their numbers, but I’m not elderly, over the hill, antiquated, past my prime. In short, I am NOT by any stretch of the imagination a senior citizen. I am at least two decades away from retirement! And, forgive me for pointing this out, but AARP stands for American Association of Retired Persons. Oh sure, they just go by the acronym now, eschewing their roots not unlike a KFC pretending that they are a heart-healthy establishment and that the word “Fried” isn’t part and parcel of their name, but we all know what they stand for, who they are, what it all means!

I’m not 21 anymore. I know that. And a lot of things have made me feel “old” in life – turning 30, having arthritic knees, hearing a co-worker call the Bicentennial “ancient history” – but getting this malevolent missive, this demoralizing piece of post, nearly caused my ticker to asplode!

Thank god I’m not in their freakin’ demographic or it probably would have.

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