I am increasingly discovering that at various places I find myself, I begin scanning to determine if anyone is older than me. Too often anymore, the answer is no. I also get the occasional, "How old are you?" This question is designed, of course, to determine just where you fit in the questioners boxes of possible kinship to themselves. In other words, is this guy going to be able to keep up with me or is he squaresville, whatever that is. I heard someone say a few months ago that age seems to be a big deal "because they never let you forget it." They being: commercials, people, well, everyone and everything. I think she is right.
People who say they don't judge are lying. We judge every time we meet someone new, every time we try something new, every time we eat something new, every time we see something new. One of the things we judge is age. Young is good, moving, reckless, fearless, funny, aware and cool. Age is...not. Age is ""I've fallen and I can't get up." Age is endless Medicare commercials. Age is Tom Selleck and his reverse mortgage spiel, and Wilford Brimley trying to find some way that Coccoon will keep him young.
All things being equal (I think I always hated that phrase) and advanced health concerns aside, age is a chronological measurement that has nothing really, to do with vivacity, smarts, outlook or coolness. Sure, I get the bias: young sells, and as I tell anyone who will listen everything is about money. Old people ain't pretty.
The East reveres its oldsters. And I'm not talking East Coast. I'm talking China and Japan and that general area. Over there young people stand when an older person walks in. The young are supposed to defer to them, let them speak first, sit down after them and never contradict them. The older you are the more respect is accorded. Nursing homes are not common over there. It is expected that the family will take care of the elders when they reach a certain age. That is starting to change however, because of the longtime one child policy that adopted. Other societies that respect their elders are Greece, Korea, India, African-American, and our own Native-American culture. There are others I'm sure, but I don't want to get too far astream of our own. Here, we just don't want to be around old people. Maybe they remind us too much of our futures. Maybe they smell.
Is there any changing our culture? Cultural change is glacially slow. Think bump stocks. I am reminded of Shakespeare, however: "The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves." Perhaps we can begin to become more self aware, more mindful of older folks.
I, for one, will strive not to ask the question "How old are you" except to my granddaughters who seem to love the annual advance in their age. To be honest, I haven't asked anyone this question in years - its always seemed a bit unnecessary. Ann Landers always said to ask the asker, "Why on earth do you want to know?" Besides, we really already know, don't we? We can come up with a ballpark guess. Leave it at that.
In addition, recognize that Madison Avenue colors our perceptions and subliminally directs us toward the "Young Is Good" ideal. That new $42,000 BMW SUV they advertise on TV is hawked by a young 28 year old long haired brunette in a red flowing full-length evening dress. I don't know about you, but I've know a lot of 28 year olds, and I was one once, and none of us could even afford the rear view mirror of a $42,000 car. Here at Sinkhole Estates, or Death Valley as I call it, there are all kinds of cool wheels that people here can actually afford. A certain red retro T-Bird convertible with a couple in it who are decidedly NOT 28 years old careen around in it with giant smiles plastered on their wrinkled faces. You won't see them on any TV ad for cars.
We are what we are. We all want to be younger. We all want to live forever. Time marches on...for all of us. Let's be kind and respectful to those who have been marching longer.
Bravo.......Well done Sir!
ReplyDeleteThank you, sir.
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