Racing to the far end of the bell curve.
I’m only 67 as I write this, but I’m more and more finding myself the oldest person in the room. (I almost put the “only” in quotes, since of course perspectives on whether that’s “old” or not vary fairly dramatically. 
)
It’s pretty easy to rationalize this. After all, younger people are being created at a pretty decent clip every day, and, as harsh as it might sound to say it, older people are dropping at a similar (technically slightly slower) rate. It’s only logical, it’s only math, that I might be traveling to the far right of the curve.
And yet.
It feels odd when I notice it. I look around at the people around the table, or at an event, or at just about anything where I might be a part of a group and realize, “well, shit, I’m probably the oldest person here.”
I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. It’s more a somewhat jarring revelation. I suppose, even, I should consider it a good thing. After all, I’m still here to even have the observation.
My wife and I have said to each other on more than one occasion “we need to get younger friends”, mostly only semi-seriously in the context of not having children or family to help us as we age. Turns out most of our friends actually are already younger, though not to the degree that statement might implies.
The one exception is my Ask Leo! audience. I’m surrounded there by many, many folks who are often much older than I am. I haven’t heard from a centenarian yet, but I know I have several readers in their 90’s, and many in their 70’s and 80’s.
But, yeah, that’s different. These aren’t the people I hang out with in person.
Sometimes I feel a little added weight or responsibility after I realize my aged status. It feels like I have an a responsibility to “be wise”, whatever that means, because older folks are supposed to be wise, right? 
I feel like I’m also supposed to model what adulting can look like at this age. From the serious to the silly, setting an example is a surprisingly interesting responsibility. It can also be weighty and even intimidating if you take it too seriously. Of course, not taking things too seriously is one of the lessons.
It’s not going to change. Math says it’s only going to get worse until I finally fall off the curve myself.
Hopefully, a long time from now, and with many younger friends.
I understand your attitude but you’re just wrong – not about getting older. We all do.
You’re just mistaken about new people being born. The fact is that we’re far from replacing ourselves. It’s not just in this country but birth rates around the world have fallen to the point that we potentially could become virtually extinct.
Look at the statistics – we don’t replace ourselves.
Data says otherwise:
Your post is a little depressing. Sixty seven is too young to be thinking about being old. I am 87 and have been retired for 30 years. Now I start thinking that maybe I am the oldest in the room only to find out that there is usually someone older. I focus on not being the oldest acting person in the room. Learning and passing on what I know has been my inspiration in my later years. You have been a big part of that for me. Thank you
Didn’t mean to depress. And, to be clear, I certainly don’t feel old. Well, except maybe for my knees. I’m absolutely looking forward to turning 87 … in 2044.
For what it’s worth, I find you to be very wise and calm, reflective and have given lots of useful advice on many topics. You’re doing well in that, and have been for many years.