Soon, I’ll no longer be middle aged. In just a few (probably) short years I’ll have joined the ranks of those who can get senior rates at restaurants, hotels and banks.

I suppose that’s a good thing. After all, who doesn’t want a discount. But then it makes me wonder about the future and are my best years behind me? I don’t think so. In my mind I’m still young. Maybe, not 13 year old young, but surely not someone in their fifties either.

I try to keep up with the latest trends, but now a days, comfort and utility seem more important than style and what’s new. I find myself waiting for version 2 as the newest inevitable requires improvements to make it really worthwhile.

Increasingly, I find the generation before too stuffy and narrow minded and the generation after too timid and reliant. It seems I do better with two generations removed. But, increasingly I notice those generations seem to tolerate and humour me. They call me sir or Mr. Van Dieman. The older ones, I suppose because that’s how they were brought up and the younger ones seem to be saying, “there’s a gap between me and you”.

I have the latest iPad Air 2, but drive a 12 year old car. I find I watch tv less and spend a lot more time on the Internet. I can’t remember the last time I wrote a letter (business letters not withstanding), but send hundreds of emails every week. I communicate more through Facebook than the phone or anything else. It seems my thoughts and comments are restricted to short sentences, comments or likes. For some reason, I like watching cat videos on my feed.

I suppose some smart person out there has figured me out and others like me since I notice increasingly targeted ads appear in my inbox. The system doesn’t seem to be perfected though. I don’t know how they figure it out, but after I buy something I see ads coming my way for the product. These computers need to be smarter. What they need to do is show me ads for stuff that go with my product. I guess that will come with version 2.

When I look at pictures of my friends from high school or college all I see are old people. They talk about cancer, heart attacks and stroke and they have grey hair. I feel sorry for them. What happened? Then I neglect to shave for a few days and find that same grey has found its way into my beard. I’m no better than them. Somehow, when I look at myself I still see someone that could be in their 30s. Others see someone much older.

I must say my life has gotten easier. I used to worry about money and now I just let it worry about itself. I can’t be bothered. When I was younger I think this attitude would have served me better. Age brings perspective, I suppose.

Lately, I’ve been making improvements. The new me. I got laser surgery and now I can see quite well without glasses. I still need reading glasses though. They say, they don’t have anything of laser correction for that. It’s ok. I’m easy like that now. I lost 125 pounds (Andrea, my wife lost 100) and now I work out at a gym. Not because I want to be like Arnold, but more because I just want to be healthier. I eat better and drink more water. I used to hate salad, now I look forward to a good head of lettuce.

Clearly, something has happened to me over the years.

I used to argue with my wife, now I rarely do. I suppose I’ve figured out (or perhaps she’s finally made me realize) that I’m not always right. It amuses me to see those who have such fixed opinions – as if they’re the only ones with a monopoly of the truth. I’m also amazed at those those that haven’t figured out yet they’re not.

When I was younger, my father would read the newspaper everyday. It was almost a ritual. Every day the newspaper would be delivered to our house and my father would take the time to read it. Later, when the nightly news came on tv he would watch it as well. As a child, I never understood. To me, the news was boring and not something for children.

As I grew older and learned how to read I discovered newspapers had something for me – the comics section. My mother understood my interest and kept the comics for me. Even after I went away to school she would keep copies in the closet of my bedroom. Perhaps, a small gesture. To me it was an act of love. A connection to my mother’s love.

Later, as I grew older an interest in the news developed and by the time I left college and lived on my own I discovered myself reading the paper everyday. In the beginning I couldn’t afford my own newspaper and so I walked down to the library and read it there. Success occurred when I could afford my own delivery. It’s interesting how we measure success. To me, it happened when I could get my own newspaper.

As time went by, the newspaper became supplemented with magazines like Time, Newsweek and Maclean’s. I read US today and the Globe and Mail. I suppose even though I was on my own, the newspaper was a connection to earlier days – to my father who read it everyday and showed me what it was to be a man; to a mother who even though I only visited home very occasionally, still kept the comics section in a closet.

Today, newspapers have become something of yesterday. With 24 hour news channels, Twitter and the internet, newspapers have become more of something that tells us about the past. I no longer subscribe and no longer walk down to the library. In today’s connected world, a newspaper seems as outdated as a book or a horse drawn carriage – more quaint than essential. Consequently, success is measured differently.

But, I still read newspapers. Not everyday and certainly not when I want to know what’s happening now, but rather when I find myself travelling. Between work and vacations I fly about 60,000 miles a year. On planes, you can watch recent movies, television and even the news…that is if you want the news recorded before the plane took off. If you really want, you can subscribe to the onboard plane’s internet portal and get the very latest, but for some reason I prefer a newspaper.

Perhaps, there’s some irony that in today’s modern travel traditions from yesterday, like reading a newspaper, become appealing. So, while the plane races to my destination at 30,000 feet travelling at 800km per hour I find myself reading a paper the airline gives me. It’s also at those lofty heights that I read my electronic magazines – when I catch up on Maclean’s, Time and the National Geographic; all courtesy of my iPad and electronic subscriptions.

So, while those newspapers give me the news, it really connects me to my roots – to my father – to my mother. My mother has since moved on and no longer collects newspapers for me. But when I see a newspaper in the Maple Leaf lounge, on the counter by the checkin, I think of her and I can’t walk by. I stop, pick up the paper and feel the connection.