All they do is talk about the good old days, and about their back pains, and about their knee surgeries, and how the world is going to hell, and how the old days were better, and how people were more reliable back then, and even the politicians were more honest when they were young, and on and on, blah-blah-blah.
Don't you get sick of it? I do.
I hate old people, too. But guess what? I am one. I was born in 1938 and will reach 73 in August this year.
In our society, we separate ourselves from old people. In other cultures, and in the good old days, families all lived together, granny and gramps and uncles and aunts and kids and parents.
Those days seem to have disappeared when most folks moved into cities to pursue industrial and post-industrial careers. "How ya gonna keep 'em down on the farm" was a popular song way back when.
When we look at old people, we don't see ourselves. We don't see anyone remotely like us. We see aliens. Creatures from outer space. Wrinkly, weird critters that don't hear very well and that have watery, almost sightless eyes. That's right, we don't see ourselves in the future, the way we are going to be, inevitably. We see aliens. I should say you. You young people see aliens. Not me, I see men and women like me, of my generation.
I never realized I was going to get old. My mother, when she was about 80 and lived on a golf course near Riverside, CA, said, "You feel young inside, but when you look in the mirror, you see an old person staring back at you."
She was right. But what she didn't say was how that feels. It is scary. My God, it is the scariest thing I've ever faced.
I don't know what to do about it, except work out, eat right and try to stay healthy. I try not to be too grumpy about it, although that is hard.
And when I meet other old people, I try to act as friendly as I can. Even though they are still aliens, weirdly enough, and they are still really boring. I hope I am not half as bad.
© Copyright 2011, Roger R. Angle
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