Isn’t it odd the we humans are never satisfied with our age. From the first years of our life we want to be a different age. When we are three we want to be five so we can go to school. At five we want to be ten so we can walk to school with our friends. Twelve is the age we want the privileges of high school, but at sixteen we can’t wait for eighteen so we can graduate and leave school completely. Reality sets in at nineteen and we just want to be twenty-one so we can drink, because frankly, having a job is so much worse than school ever was. After all that, we spend the rest our days looking back wishing we were younger.
In fact, there is a 170-billion-dollar industry dedicated solely to making us looking younger. We spend tons of cash hoping to be more youthful, but the sad fact is we aren’t. We still have to work, pay bills, do laundry, and pick up dog poop no matter how young we look. Also remember, all cosmetic treatments are only temporary. We could look great today but come tomorrow morning we’re back to the same Yeech. It is all so fruitless. Well, once again Mr. Ohh! is going to save the day. I no longer look to my past. I took a page from my children’s book and once again look forward to being older. It may sound crazy but stay with me.
Old people get away with so much stuff it’s unbelievable. While we are putting on makeup to go out and exercise the dog, the seniors on my block have stopped caring. They are out walking around in their pajamas and slippers. They don’t shave or comb their hair and they were clashing patterns. I have seen this. Who knows why but they do. The huge thing is that no one cares they’re doing it. If I went out like that people would call the men in the white coats, but add twenty years and it’s totally acceptable.
Here’s another interesting story. I went to one of those huge megaplexes the other day. One where there are like 240 theaters showing 900 separate movies on screens a mile wide in 96-chanel surround-sound starting every fifteen minutes. Well, maybe I’m exaggerating a little, but even so. All the seats were more like the recliner in my living room than a theatre seat, and my drink actually fit into the cup holder. (Yes, this has been an issue for me in the past.) I don’t remember what I saw, I was too busy pushing a series of buttons to adjust my seat for “Optimal Comfort and Viewability to Enhance My Cinematic Experience.” With a task like that, you have to expect it to take an hour or so to complete. While this is all very interesting, it’s really not the point.
The point is that, with all these modern conveniences, they have to charge outlandish prices at the concession stand to pay for it. I mean really. I bought a large popcorn, chocolate-covered-raisins and a couple of drinks for the low, low price of $42.50. I know you probably don’t care about all this, but wait till you hear what happened next. As I was leaving, the elderly man behind me purchased similar items, added a box of Milk Duds and paid only 25 dollars! I asked the clerk about this and was informed the man had received a ‘senior’ discount.
It’s like a reward for having good sense. When we reach the age of enlightenment, where we stop buying hair dye and razor-blades, we are rewarded with a twenty per-cent discount at the movies. Does this mean those Hollywood types don’t want anyone in the theatre to look better than those folks on the screen? That doesn’t make much sense. I’m pretty sure Jennifer Garner can’t see me when I’m watching her at the movies. (Well, let’s hope she can’t) Besides, I’m sure the room is way too dark.
And that’s not all. Do you like doughnuts? Of course you do. The thing is most of us are watching our figures and exercising so we avoid sweet, wonderful doughnuts. But here again, when we reach the age where we can sigh and admit, “Hey, we look like we look,” suddenly we get a ten-percent discount on doughnuts.
Discounts aren’t the only thing. You only have to watch a couple of TV commercials to see that life is better after sixty-five. You simply have to decide to get out of the Rat-Race and quit your job. All of a sudden, the clouds open up and some great power happens. You meet a guy named Chuck, buy a Cadillac, bicycle, and kayak so you can spend the rest of your life smiling at your grandchildren. Why do you need a kayak to smile at grandchildren? I’m not sure. But it’s all over TV and the internet so it must be true.
Another thing is, seniors have so much power. No, I’m not talking Gandolf the Grey power, although his knee-length beard definitely puts him a little distant from his twenties. I’m talking about political power. At my age if I write my congresswoman I will receive a very nice form letter. It will show concern for whatever my issue is and ask for future support. After which I will be ignored for two years, but in the kindest way possible. The 60+ crowd actually has a lobbying organization, with a real magazine. Not just an E-Zine, no this one is paper with actual pictures, and everything. This group goes directly to Congress and fights for the right to wear tacky shirts. They’re the world’s new naturalists, promoting natural things like graying temples, nose hair, and farting in public. With the entire universe calling these things unacceptable, AARP knows what’s real and what isn’t. I, for one, salute their efforts.
So, what do you think about grandma’s wrinkles now, you young whipper-snapper? Don’t you see the advantages in being elderly? (Start patriotic music here) Join me, I say. Look not to your zits of the past. Embrace the freckles and ear-hair of age. (Music crescendos) If you can’t find it possible to blissfully accept your current age, look ahead, look to the future. It’s much more positive than looking back. Besides, you will never be twenty again, and sixty-two is approaching faster than you think.
(Big musical flourish and cut)
If you have comments, want to discuss whether age spots are a sign of an alien invasion, or have me take a sideways view at your favorite topic. Send me an E-Mail at firstname.lastname@example.org I’d love to hear from you!