In a few days, I’ll be a member of the “Silver Tsunami,” also known as the “Gray Tsunami” and the “Silver Wave.” I don’t get a jacket with my name on the front, but I am guaranteed a 4:30 dinner reservation at Golden Corral, a pill organizer and a discount on Skechers Slip-ins.  

Don’t laugh. There’s a lot more of us than you.

On Tuesday, I and about 11,400 others will join an estimated 4.18 million Americans who will turn 65 this year. You know who’s also on that list: John Elway, Valerie Bertinelli, Sean Penn and Jennifer Grey. Yeah, Baby is also turning 65.

By the end of 2025, approximately 73 million baby boomers will be 65 or older, making up more than a fifth of the U.S. population, marking a historic milestone as the largest surge of retirement-age Americans in US history.

Somehow, turning 65 doesn’t seem quite as traumatic as turning 60. I never worried about making it to 30, 40 or 50. But 60 was a different story, a real shock to the system. It wasn’t a milestone birthday I was looking forward to. Now, I am secretly looking forward to the next couple of milestones, mainly to see if I can make it to them.

I’ve decided to listen to my body. It was a pretty easy call, considering how much noise it’s making these days.

On most mornings, my body does a great impression of my Grandpa Max as I attempt to maneuver my way out of bed.

If I close my eyes, I can see his frail body trying to stand up straight, all the while filling the air with his moans and the creek of his bones:

“OOOOOOYYYYY”

“AAAAAHHHHH”

“WWWOOOOWWW”

Then I open my eyes and realize that it’s me making those sounds — and scaring the dog to run under the bed.

I can live with the moans as long as I don’t start shrinking like Grandpa Max.

And speaking of shrinking, my body has recently decided to extend its repertoire of family members. Along with Max in the morning, it now performs a perfect impression of Roz Lewis, who lost 3 feet in height in her later years.

My body isn’t just doing my Mom’s usual groans, but the grimace on her face as she tried to walk off the pain when her toes would stiffen up.

We used to go to her apartment and within minutes, she’d walk around like Frankenstein.

It was more fun than Coney Island.

You think that’s mean? Don’t worry. Mom’s getting me back. I don’t know how — but unlike Houdini, she’s managed to return from the Great Beyond and get even.

Without warning, my toes will suddenly stiffen like boards, and I’ll stumble around to walk off the pain. Instead of hearing Poppa Max groaning, I hear my Mom giggling.

I’ve decided not to just sit back and allow old age to take over my body. That’s because it hurts when I sit back too long. Instead, I’m paying more attention to medicines that might relieve my aches and pains.

Some of the best suggestions come from commercials. Seems whatever I watch is the perfect demographic for those suffering from aches and pains.

You’ve seen the ads. Healthy-looking guy with a full head of salt-and-pepper hair drives his pickup down a country road at sunset with a hairy dog by his side. They all start that way.

I know where you’re going.

But I’m talking about the ad for Celebrex that says it relieves arthritis pain. First time I saw the commercial, I figured, this stuff is for me.

“For the relief of symptoms of arthritis and the management of acute pain for adults.”

That was the first 6 seconds. The last 54 had me running under the bed with the dog.

“Celebrex can increase the chance of heart attack or stroke that can lead to death. It can cause ulcers and bleeding, which can occur without warning and may cause death. Other side effects include headaches, diarrhea, nausea, flatulence and insomnia. Also, swelling of face, lips, tongue or throat. Call your doctor if you see signs of yellowing of the eyes, dark urine, red or purple skin rash that spreads...”

Think I’m safer just suffering with the aches and pains.

Barry Lewis is a longtime journalist and author who lives with his wife Bonnie in the Town of Neversink. He can be reached at      barrylewisscdemocrat@gmail.com.