Friday, September 15, 2006

Dispatch from the Old Country

If I could summon even half of the I-don't-give-a-fuck-ness that comes from being a senior citizen, I think I'd be a much more actualized human. So I was at a senior center where people were listening to a lecture on aging and among the comments overheard :

"What the hell is he talking about?"

"huhhhhh??"

"Could you PLEASE talk louder." Sigh.

"Hey!" --said loudly and interrupting. "What's your name?!"

One senior to the another: "I already TOLD you, but I guess I'll REPEAT myself."

"Can we talk about transporatation, because the driver of the bus would not tell me when I should get off and when I asked him he just made a face" [mimicked face] and on and on and on.

A fit looking elderly man in a jogging suit walks out of the senior center, observes a new cigarette disposal device in the veranda and says "outrageous, absolutely outrageous" and shakes his head for a solid five minutes.

They're honest like children but with the experience and cynicism of adults. I dig it. I dig the grumpy old people, the friendly old people, the clueless old people. They crack me up. I want to be old and not give a fuck.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Hmmmm...I wonder if I've ever been in the situation you've just described. Let's see...peering back through my illustrious work history. Ummm, I think, maybe it's a little fuzzy. No, no, there it is. YES! I remember this situation you've described. Only now that I never have to be in that situation again (and I say NEVER, EVER AGAIN), I've blocked most of those experiences out.

There is one time, however, that I simply will never forget. I'm "talking" to an old guy at a senior citizen compound akin to what the Branch Dividians built (I won't out your super secret location, Porc, by mentioning the place. But think about the nicest, most 'da bomb apartment complex you could ever imagine, where they feed you, bathe you and even do yor hair...it's a place where you could rider your wood if you really wanted to).

So I'm talking to this guy about, of all things, the Pledge of Allegiance, and he lets out a fart. "Hey, you're not going to write that down are you? On second thought, what do I care? I'm an old widower! I don't have to hide my flatulance to anyone ever again."

Ahhh, Life in the LoCoMo...er, uh, I mean, Life in the Suburbs!