Time to hang up those rock 'n' roll shoes

There are defining moments in every life. Call them revelations or call them epiphanies. But when those moments pass, you know you are a different person than you were moments before. Mine happened about 9:15 p.m. Monday night.

I was covering one of Bruce Springsteen's rehearsal shows in Asbury Park, and Springsteen's publicists had been kind enough to supply a pass to the show. When I arrived, well ahead of time I might add, I looked for my seat and was told that my ticket was a general admission ticket. There was no seat. I was to stand in front of the stage for the entire concert.

The show was swell, but along about the aforementioned hour, it dawned on me that my feet hurt. "I wish I could sit down,'' I thought, and that's when, if you'll pardon the expression, the other shoe dropped. "I'm getting old. Two weeks shy of my 48th birthday and I'm getting old.''
It's a short hop from complaining about your sore feet to frequenting restaurants for their early-bird special.

It's a sobering thought, this being old thing, particularly when you consider that Mr. Springsteen is 56 and brings the house down night after night.

If there is any comfort, it comes from children, who keep me young. When I told my 17-year-old about my epiphany, he was quiet for a minute. "For what it's worth Dad,'' he finally said, "I've thought you were old my whole life.''

I think I'll go take a nap now.