A couple of decades ago I bought via American Express an "accident insurance" policy. It didn't cost all that much per month (about $10), and Joyce and I were doing a lot of traveling then--almost all by car.
To Massachusetts to see my parents and brothers, all over the country visiting literary sites and places related to the research we were doing (she, John Brown; I, memoir stuff)--these were the sorts of journeys we made. Oh, and a favorite: up to Stratford, Ontario, for a week each summer to see plays at the Stratford Theatre Festival. So ... it just seemed to make sense to buy the policy. Get clobbered on the road--survivors profit.
The deduction from my Amex account was automatic--around the 9th of each month.
But this month the 9th drifted by--the 10th--the 11th--12th, 13th, 14th, 15th. No deduction. I was about to email Amex to find out what was happening.
Then a letter arrived yesterday: "... you have reached the age limit for coverage under this Policy." (Yes, they capitalized policy.)
I turned 75 on November 11--"the age limit."
It's odd, really: We do very little traveling now. A movie, a mall, the grocery store, the health club. About the most extensive jaunt we make is down to Green, Ohio, to visit our son and his family. According to Google Maps, that's 25.1 mi away. Or up to Cleveland for a play production a few times a year.
And that's about it. I haven't flown in quite a few years; Joyce hates flying and has rarely been aboard a plane in our half-century together. Emergencies only.
So ... at a time when we're traveling less, we have no more accident insurance.
The calculations at the insurance company must reveal a darker truth: Old guys are more likely to get in an accident even though they are driving less. (There's probably some truth to that?)
Anyway, this is yet another instance of the you're-old-now information (confirmation!) that I'm getting from my junk mail, from my spam email, from my junk phone calls.
Oh, and, of course, from my traitorous body.
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