The aging-up thing was fun. Bit by bit, we aged-up into lipstick, bras, two-piece bathing suits, dating, drive-in theaters, driver’s licenses. Then we aged-up even more into marriage, children, work and responsibilities.
Aging-out is a whole different ball of wax. I, personally, have aged-out of thongs, skinny-dipping and stilettos. But it never crossed my mind that I would age-out of the New York Times, and, specifically, The Sunday NYT Magazine, which has been my go-to repository for fun and information for so many years.
My pattern for reading The Magazine has never changed. First, I do a quick glance at the puzzle. Does it look like fun? Hard? Easy? No matter. I’ll get back to it soon. The mystery medical column is up next. Do I have any of those symptoms? Should I call the doctor? Once I’ve passed that test, I’m off to the Letters to the Editor. That tried and true process has never let me down.
Until last week. The following is a paragraph from a much larger article in the NYT Magazine, titled ” Million Dollar JPEGS.” I should have known, from the get-go, that the article wasn’t written with me in mind but I trundled on until I got to this:
See what I mean? Apparently, there are some things I’m simply not meant to grasp. The good news is that the puzzle was fun and I didn’t have a single symptom of the mystery disease. I’d like to think that I’ve aged sufficiently, however you cut it, to accept that I can take what I need and leave the rest. All’s well that ends well.
Quote from the New York Times magazine, May 16, 2021