I have this callus on the bottom of my right foot, and as often as I can I keep it elevated on a chair and cover that part of my foot with good old petroleum jelly -- you know, Vaseline. It helps moisturize the bad area.

But I can't have my foot up on a chair all the time. When I have to appear "normal" I wear Dr. Scholl's callus pads.

So this is what my life has become ­ sporting and wearing Dr. Scholl products. How pathetic. How old. This is stuff my grandparents used to buy. Look what I've become.

I'm getting older, and sometimes it's a bear. When I have to put on my glasses to shave and trim my nose hairs, this oldness slaps me in the face. When I ask the person who cuts the hair on my head to also please cut the hair growing out of my ears, I feel like an old geezer. When I have to take scissors and trim the wild hair growing from my eyebrows, I have to keep telling myself that I'm not turning into Andy Rooney.

When you get older, you tend to do stupid things. A few weeks ago, while moisturizing my right foot yet again, I remembered I needed to pick up some Geritol from the drug store. After my moisturizing session, I walked over to the pharmacy down on the corner.

I kept getting strange looks in the store. Some young kids were laughing at me while others seemed to look troubled. They were all looking at my feet. When I looked down, I noticed on my left foot I was wearing a brown Earth Shoe, while on my right foot I was wearing a black house slipper with no socks.

Determined to save face, I ignored all the looks, got my bottle of Geritol and went up to the cashier to pay for it. This also was stupid, since I had left my wallet at home.

Getting older also means becoming forgetful. A few weeks ago I put my coffee cup down when I heard a knock on the door. I can't remember now who was there and I don't remember where I laid down my coffee cup. It's still missing. A few nights ago I couldn't find my keys anywhere. Turns out, after my frantic search, they were in a pocket in my pants -- which I was wearing. How sad is this?

Becoming forgetful also brings along paranoia. So often when I'm on the bus heading toward work, these thoughts keep running in my head: Did I turn off the stove? Did I turn off the coffee maker? Did I lock the front door? And since the drug store incident -- do my shoes match? Am I wearing socks?

Sometimes older people become a little scary, and I wonder if I'm turning into one of them. A while back I was at the bank getting a roll of quarters to do laundry. As I was leaving, I saw my young friend and co-worker Sara, who was crossing the street from the bank. Thinking I'm witty and trying to be funny, I yelled out, "God damn it, stop following me!"

Well, I wasn't wearing my glasses and it turns out this young girl wasn't Sara at all. When she turned around, her mouth was open and then she started to walk really fast down the sidewalk. Feeling bad for what I did, I also crossed the street trying to catch up with her yelling, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Her fast walk then turned into a full run, and I couldn't keep up with her. Often she turned around to look at me, terror in her face, to make sure she was getting away. If this young person is in therapy because of me, I'm gonna feel bad about it.

I really shouldn't complain about getting older, because it sure beats the alternative, which is death. I think I'm just gonna go with the flow here. I'll go ahead and register for that AARP membership, with which I'll have access to exclusive discounts on insurance, airfares, auto rentals and Geritol. But before I do this I want to head on over to the drug store and check out Dr. Scholl's Moleskin Plus Padding for my foot. This soft cotton flannel padding apparently can be cut to any size for all-day relief of painful corns, calluses and tender spots. For an old guy like me, that's pretty exciting.

Now where did I put my shoes?