I did it.
I fought it for 8 years. To give in would be to admit a certain truth that no one wants to face. But in the wee hours of this morning, (you know, when you have to get up and wee because you drank too many liquids too close to bedtime) I went online, filled out the form and became a card-carrying member of the A.A.R.P..
If you haven’t made it to 50 yet, your turn is coming. I’m pretty sure the mailman waits down at the end of the street to watch you come out to your mailbox and find that first invitation to join. I received my first solicit when I was still 49 and was highly offended. “A.A.R.P.? I’m not there yet!”
Truth be told, you’re there once you cross the 50-year-line.
Oh, I’d seen the commercials and heard them referred to in the news regarding senior citizen issues, but that was THEIR organization, not mine. I do believe the “R” in A.A.R.P. stands for retired and that sure isn’t me.
But lately, a couple of friends admitted they had joined because of all the discounts. So, I thought I might as well take a peek at the benefits. For $16 a year, you’d get your money back in no time. Join for a 5-year stretch and it comes out to be just $12.80 a year.
I give my Scottish heritage full credit, but I am cheap. I see absolutely no sense in paying too much for anything. I remember that time I went to play golf up at Camano Island and the girl at the register said, “That’ll be $22.” From there, my mind went into hyper-drive. “But I thought it was $27.” I looked at the sign. It WAS $27, but seniors 62 and older only had to pay $22. I had to think quickly—should I be upset that she thought I looked 62 or be happy about saving the $5. I looked her straight in the eye and said with a smile, “Thank you very much!”
So, I’ve done it. I’m joined the American Association of Retired Persons. Watch out world, ‘cause I want my discount and I want it now. Once I have it, I’m going to yell at those kids on my front lawn.