I knew this would happen eventually, just not so soon.

It was so appropriate it happened the night I went to see Boyhood, the lovely, lyrical film by Richard Linklater. It’s a meditation on time and its passing, filmed over 12 years, following a boy from young childhood to college. I’d say it’s impossible to watch this movie and not reflect. My life, the time lived and the time left. Moments big and small.

I hadn’t yet seen the film, so wasn’t in quite such a philosophical mood.

“Two for Boyhood at 7:30,” I said.

“Two regular tickets?” the guy asked.

For a second I didn’t understand the question. Jay and I were standing right there; maybe he thought I was bringing a kid? Maybe he… no. “Two regular tickets” I repeated firmly, flushing as I realized for the first time in my life I’d been offered the senior discount!

It wasn’t as bad as being stabbed, though the sudden thrust of it felt mildly like an assault. Maybe he says that to everyone, I thought weakly, but I knew it wasn’t true. As I left with our tickets I sneaked a peek at the board. Senior tickets are for those 62 and above. Hm. I have 12 years before I’ll qualify. 11 years 2 months and 3 days, if you want to be picky and count partial years.

It was perhaps 10 years ago that someone first called me “sir,” not just in a polite way (in the South lots of people use it at any age), but in an unmistakable, you’re-old-enough-to-be-my-dad sort of way. What’s next, a young kid offering me a seat on the train? So I admit it. Berkeley crowds offer a sea of gray-haird patrons, and I’m one of them.

Recently we streamed “The Trip to Italy” at home, another movie full of wonderful, small moments that ponders mortality. Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon play some version of themselves, supposedly reviewing food at a string of gorgeous restaurants, though clearly neither one knows much about food and they barely even notice it. That’s part of the joke, and their ambling, competitive jibes and impersonations and flights of fancy are delightful. (It’s a sequel to “The Trip” which was also a small joy of a movie.) Part of what makes both “Trip” films entertaining is how long, extended scenes allow you to enjoy the comedy and quirkiness, and then slowly start to see underneath the humor. They banter about who’s more famous, attracts more women, or would taste better if canabalism were required in the remote Andes after a plane crash. But then, on a sunny terrace filled with lovely young tourists, they try to remember when young women first started looking right through them. Later on a gorgeous beach Coogan talks about how everyone there will be dust in a box in 100 years’ time. What’s nice about the movie is they don’t then discuss this earnestly, or laugh it off too soon. It just sits there, you see it register on their faces. People continue to come and go on the beach, and eventually they go back to their shtick.

So yes, we’ve all got a life with an end, and we don’t like thinking about it but life puts these small reminders in our path. We realize we’re another year (or 10) older. What a ride.

We were early for “Boyhood,” so we headed with our tickets down the street for a glass of wine at Burgermeister. When it was our turn and I made my order, the 20something running the register asked what I’m sure is just a standard question, but her timing was perfect. A little gift from the universe to keep it all in perspective. “Can I see some ID for that?”