We are the morning folks.

We are the old folks.

In the frigid early hours of winter, we can be found huddled in our cars, engines idling, heaters on, outside Planet Fitness waiting for the door to open at 5.

We are middle-aged and older, most of us, a graying, somewhat stiff bunch that tends to watch morning news shows and talk about the weather a lot.

My 20-something sons would say our heads are full of straw, or, at least, stuffed with brains too dried up to realize the absurdity of exercising before the sun rises.

But then they are nocturnal creatures, like the rest of their kind, a species that favors pepperoni pizza at 1 a.m. and text-messaging on the move without looking — not even once — at the key pad.

This is the true generation gap: the declining denizens of dawn versus the ascending legions of late night.

Yes, we are like night and day.

My eldest son has a theory: he is convinced that the older a person gets, the earlier he or she wants to get up. He is right. What happens is the older you become, the more you realize that time is precious and that an early start makes for a more productive day.

I have my own theory about the nocturnal crowd: I’m convinced that young people possess an overactive gland of some sort that injects adrenaline into their blood stream at precisely 10 o’clock each night.

That gland must have shriveled up in me about the time my brain turned into straw. But that’s OK. I don’t miss the midnight hour. I am not embarrassed to admit I have never, not once, stayed up to watch Jimmy Kimmel or Jimmy Fallon.

I’ve heard of but never watched “The Daily Show” and “The Late Show” — never mind the “The Late, Late Show with James Corden.”

I have vague memories of viewing “Saturday Night Live” — back, I think, when Chevy Chase was still part of the cast. And I stopped tuning into “The Tonight Show” after Ed McMahon — God rest his soul — said his final “H — e — r — e — ’s Johnny.”

Heck, I cut out 9 p.m. movies at the theater years ago. What’s the point of spending $10 to sleep through half a film?

So, yes, I’m at peace with being a morning man. I don’t mind that on weekends I often finish lunch long before my kids begin to contemplate breakfast.

But enough of this generational rambling for now. It’s late, and I’m tired — time to go to bed.

Writing is what I do. I started as a journalist, working at a daily newspaper in Maine for 20 years, and now I’m an English teacher, specializing in writing.

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