The Key to Looking Young

While many guys my age are either balding, gray, or look like they could be my father's younger brother, I get carded everywhere I go. When a friend recently asked me to buy him a pack of smokes during a trip to CVS to buy shampoo, the cashier asked to see ID. You need to be 18 years old to buy cigarettes in New York, and the fact that that I'm twice that plus one, made it that much more annoying that I had to dig out the old driver's license to prove to the middle aged cashier that I was old enough to make bad decisions about my own health - or in this case, my friend's. And of course there's always that requisite look of shock on the ID checker's face when they do the math and realize how old I actually am. And of course, I always feel obligated to make a comment like, "Hard to believe, huh?" when they hand me back my license. I suppose if I were a woman, these types of occurrences might make me giddy, but I've accepted these instances for what they are - minor nuisances brought about as a result of youthful DNA. At least that's what I thought was the cause of my boyish appearance until Ernest Borgnine set the record straight:

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