It’s hard to accept aging. I’m now 67 and look at my reflection in the mirror and think, “Who’s that?” In most ways, I feel 40ish. A month ago I got into a shouting match with a UPS driver who was speeding in my neighborhood. He called me an old lady. That was worse than his offense of speeding. In contrast, today I took a photography course at the Apple Store in my nearby mall. The other person taking the course was a man about 70-75 years of age. He called me a “young lady.” My first thought was doesn’t he realize we’re about the same age? Then my lingering thought is – is this the last time in my life that I will be referred to as such?