This is one of those (secretive s-h-h-h-h ) benchmarks that lots of folks seem to want to keep hush-hush, no more than whispered about, when they get there.
Not me. I’d rather just face it (and get it over with) and embrace it (what more can you do?) fully. Today, I turned sixty. 
Every day, about 330 or so boomers reach this point. Born in the 50s, radical in the 60s 
(not me!) and early 70s, settled down in the 
80s, splurged in the 
90s, and lost our financial butts 
in the 2000s (not me 
).
Supposedly sixty is the new 30 – or is that the new 40? 
I don’t know about that. I think it’s just rationalization for some people, to make them feel better when they get there here.
I took another tack on dealing with this benchmark and it really helps to lessen the impact. Over the last year, as the time 
grew closer and closer, I just more and more started thinking of my age as 60 instead of 59. After all, since last summer sometime, I’ve actually been closer to 60 than 59. 
I don’t feel 60 – mentally or physically. 
Retirement? Still doin’ it – part time. 
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