Fingerprinting

I have been officially notified: I am elderly.

I received this not too welcome news when I was fingerprinted recently. No, I was not being booked into jail; it was just a routine exercise that I had not had done in many years.

In case you don’t know, there is new technology for such things. Instead of the old ‘ink on the digits’ routine, prints are now digitally taken. The only thing on your fingers is a bit of window cleaner or some hand lotion. The reasons for this odd combination are for someone else to explain. Just know that my hands were sprayed and ‘lotioned’ up vigorously.

My ‘come-uppance’ came when a couple of my fingers wouldn’t give up their ridges and swirls. The computer just wouldn’t or couldn’t read those delicate prints.

In order to make it official, the fingerprint operator had a form letter that accompanied my copy of prints. The letter was not subtle in its message. In fact, it was blunt in explaining why my prints were unobtainable: I’m old. He could have pointed out that it was just my hands that were aged, but no, he gave the ‘elderly’ definition to my entire being.

I did not know age made a difference in fingerprint quality. Who would have thought that we lose some of our identifying features when our hair begins to grey or we lose our shiny locks?

There is good news in someone pointing out so indelicately that I have worn fingers: my ‘permanent record’ is flawed and I can’t be found if ever I do something wrong.

The only thing the authorities will know is that these prints belong to someone OLD.