Reaching the eighth and likely last decennial observation of my birth I, unlike Derrick Dove, have no trouble pinpointing when I got old.

To answer his question, time didn’t speed up, I slowed down.

And the foot came off the accelerator seemingly overnight, suddenly realizing:

Could no longer play catch, much less chase, with the great-greats; Staying in bed was more appealing than waking for a fishing or hunting adventure; Men, and women, were pausing to let me pass; All the lyrics I know are from songs played at 45 rpm; Prefer bound books to digitized ones; Was actually watching some of HGTV; Prefer TV sports to stadium seat; Am only one writing check at supermarket.

When, indeed, did everything change?