The AARP Challenge

       At the tender age of 45, I still tend to make fun of the whole AARP concept.  Since full membership is limited to people over 50, I tend to think of it as an organization for "old" people. But let's face it, I'm not that far away.

       Indeed, now matter how much I try to deny it, I'll be 46 soon.  And people I know -- people I care about deeply -- are already members.  My oldest brother, five years my senior, recently joined.  A good friend has been eligible for membership for several years now, although I'm not sure he has signed up.  My dear neighbors from my condo complex are definitely members.

       And I have heard there are some benefits. My former neighbors constantly shared AARP information with me -- on matters ranging from exercise to nutrition to emergency planning.  And one of my faithful readers -- Pam -- told me to check out the games on the AARP web site.

       So despite all my instincts screaming not to do it, I finally checked out aarp.org.  I noticed articles on topics ranging from breakfast cereal to health care reform to travel. But of the five most popular articles on the site, four pertained to social security - confirming that I am surely way too young to benefit from this organization.  

       Still, on Pam's advice, I click on the "Leisure" heading on the web site to get to the Leisure main page.  Then, I click on "Games", and then on the "Games" page, I  locate a section of brain games. 

       The first game listed is called "The Right Word".  And since coming up with the right word is my most troublesome manifestation of aging (other than not being able to see up close without reading glasses) I choose to start with that game.  

       The first thing I have to do though is enter my sex, education level and age.  I wonder if being less than 50 will make me ineligible to play. But no...the year 1963 is listed as an option, for some reason.  

       I skip over the sample questions offered, despite the strong recommendation on the screen that I give them a try.  And asked to choose a level of difficulty, I confidently choose six out of nine.  I figure that since I am a little young compared to most of those on the AARP site, I must have a pretty significant advantage.

       The game begins when I am asked to choose words corresponding to six definitions, and as I would expect, I choose all of them correctly. 

       Then I proceed to the next part of the game...and the following is what happened in my brain -- thought by thought.

       

       On the right side of the page, I am required to list three states that start with the letter “A”.  No problem.  Alabama, Arkansas, Alaska. On the left side of the page, I am required to list three mammals that start with the letter “M”.  I had actually read the mammal part before the part about coming up with states that start with “A”, but since I have only sixty seconds to complete both columns and I was momentarily blank, I skipped to the right side. 

       Anyway…Monkey. There’s one. Now I need two more.  Should be easy...

       Um…Come on. I’m sure there are more. 

       Okay, well, let’s see what  mammals I can think of.  

       Giraffe. Tiger. Elephant.  Zebra. 

       A dolphin is a mammal. And there’s a bird sort of mammal too.
A penguin? I like penguins. 

       But no, it’s something that sounds like a bird, but isn’t. Hmmm…

       I look down at my dog, Olympia, who is sitting beside me. 

       I sense there may be a clue there. Dog. Cat. Sheepdog.
       Sheep. 

       A mother sheep is a ewe. A baby sheep is a lamb.  Sheep go mahhhh… 

       No, it’s bahhhhh…, but it really does sound more like mahhhh… which does start with an “m”. But who cares? 

       What about “moo”?  A moo cow?

       That’s terrible.  Surely I must be able to think of a mammal that truly starts with “M”.

       Some kind of rodent. 

       Yes! A gerbil? A guinea pig? Come on!

       Time expires. 

       I am shocked. Shocked!  And ashamed.

       The so-called game tells me now that I might have come up with mouse – which is the nickname we use for Olympia – so there was indeed a clue there. Not that my brain could come up with it. 

       Also moose would have been good, which I surely would also have thought of if I had been able to think of mouse first. And moose, of course, makes me think of mongoose, which sounds like a bird but isn’t.

       How could I not have come up with those? What is wrong with me?   

       And apparently, I’m not even done with this annoying game. Now I have to remember the six words I identified in the first section of the quiz.  

       Okay.  I can still remember those, at least.

       I quickly decide to try another round.  

       The quiz asks me to identify six words again. No problem. Done in no time. 

       Now I have to come up with three fruits that start with “M” and three items of clothing that start with “S”.  Shirts, shoes, slacks. There. 

       And now for those pesky “M” words again.  Um…mango. I’m allergic to mango. I’m allergic to a lot of fruits, actually. Maybe some of those start with M?

       Cherries, apples, strawberries.  It isn't fair that I have to think of fruits when I can hardly eat any of them.

       Shit. 

       What about “merde”?  That starts with an “M” and is French. Can I get credit for that? Swearing in another language?

       Luckily, the phone rings. It’s Tom. He tells me he’s at the airport waiting to catch the plane home.  I can hear announcements being made over the public address system in the background. “Hey Tom,” I say. “Can you think of three fruits that start with the letter “M”? 

       “What? I’m in line, waiting to board,” he replies.  

       “Okay, I just wanted to see if you would instantly come up with them or not,” I reply, beginning to relax a bit.

       “Fine, let me try. Okay. Fruit that start with M.” Tom is silent for about three seconds. “I can’t think of any fruit that start with M”, he says, clearly annoyed. 

       “Thanks! I feel a lot better. Have a good flight, and call me when you land.”

       By the time I get back to the computer, my sixty seconds has long since expired. The computer tells me I might have come up with words like melon and mandarin – neither of which I am allergic to, which is vaguely weird.

       I go back to the game.  And I play three more times – until finally I score 100% on my answers and answer all questions in the top 25 percentile in terms of speed. 

       That’s just the way I am.  Nothing less than perfection will do.  

       Even if it takes several tries to get there.

       

       My pulse is quick by now and my head feels like a band has tightened around it. I reach up and realize that I am wearing my glasses on top of my head.  At least I hadn’t been looking for them. 

       Things aren’t that bad…yet…