Fifty

September 5, 2012

Aging beats the alternative.

I’m not afraid of getting old. I just don’t want to be there when it happens.

I’m trying to trade in my 50 for two 20s and a 10.

Seriously, who isn’t grateful to be around today, with all that we’ve accomplished and all that’s underway?

Man-made objects are leaving tracks on friggin’ Mars and sending back pictures in high definition. Other things are farther away from Earth than man has ever conceived of, and sending us pictures.

We have interconnectedness like never before (for good and ill), shrinking our otherwise dehumanized, lonely world. The concept of six degrees of separation now seems entirely antiquated.

We’ve made such advancements in medicine that life is now capable of being prolonged to such a degree that we’re actually wondering if we live too long! Think of it!

Of course, it’s not perfect and far from it. There are many who suffer and tough roads ahead. But humanity in total and we as Americans have never (NEVER!) failed to prevail and eventually tame whatever challenge it is that has faced us. This time will be no different. This is not the end of times. This is not an existential threat to our existence. We will get through it and thrive.

Despite reports to the contrary, I am quite an optimist. An old optimist.


Facebook and Old People

August 14, 2012

 

Sixty-five percent of adults in the United States have a Facebook account, including my 81-year old father. He doesn’t use it much. He started it last year after I told him that his granddaughter was posting pictures of her semester in Italy there and that Facebook was the best way to keep up with her adventure (even if it meant seeing her in various states of sobriety and with foreign men with a natural attraction to American blondes).

I have only rarely used a photograph of myself as my profile picture on the site, relying on photos (and cartoons) for purely comedic and crack-myself-up purposes.

I was doing my usual computer clean-up of my dad’s computer recently and he mentioned how infrequently he visited Facebook, but that more and more of his friends are talking about its uses and value. So I logged him on and showed him around a bit, including my page.

Him: “That’s your name, but that’s not your picture.”

Me: “There’s no requirement that you use your own photo.”

Him: “But that’s not your picture. It’s your name. How do people know it’s you if that’s not your picture?”

Me: “Trust me. They know.”

 


How the AARP discount seeps into the subconcious

December 24, 2009

Yesterday in the hardware store, an old guy shows up at the checkout counter with two of the most expensive bags of ice melter (FKA “salt”) in the store. The cashier rings it up and announces the total as $66.74. The old man’s face registers his shock at the price. He immediately strikes the pose taught to us by popular culture: VICTIM!

“I’m an old man. Don’t I get some kind of discount? Do you know how often I’m in here?”

Clerk: No.

Old man: Can I talk to the manager?

I didn’t have time to hang around and watch how it worked out, but if I had, I probably would have said something stupid like, “where’s my unemployed discount?” or “isn’t that your Lexus in the parking lot?” or something.


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