“It’s not that old people are ugly, they just smell and are like children, but worse. And I guess they are kinda ugly.”
I can personally confirm this. And I can just as easily disprove it. Just before the start of the school year, my mom’s mom moved in with us. It’s been quite the adventure, and I could write a book of crazy Nana-isms. But despite the horror movie ideas that have spawned off of our new flat mate, the good times out weigh the bad by far.
Yes, she smells. Yes, she is like a child. Yes, it takes a village. No, I don’t hate it. It’s actually really neat to sit next to her at night and eat dinner with her. I can see the young woman she used to be; her elegance, her grace, traces of her beauty and poise. My grandmother is, in fact, the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. The picture below is my favorite picture in the universe. It’s of my grandparents at their engagement party.
I think people who try to elongate their youth are in denial that one day they will indeed wither and die and crumble into a pile of stardust. Sure, there might be hip new medicine that extends our wistful existence, unless we off ourselves first. Look, if we just accept the inevitable and grow old, I think we’ll have a much better go of it. Just because you’re old, doesn’t mean you can’t be awesome. I just read an article published by hovercraftdoggy on an 83 year old man who creates astounding “flying ships” (shown below). If you take the time to take your ‘I’m so superficial’ shades off and actually see the world, I think you will be truly in awe of its depth. You might even fall into the void. (you should visit me there)
I live in the past. I wish I was an old person right now, because it would mean that I’d have spent an awesome life tromping around the most important and rocking time in music history. When I look at old people, I don’t see death, I see life. I see a life I wish I could have called my own. To me, old people aren’t a nuisance, they’re a comfort. Even if I didn’t get to scream at The Beatles, or The Stones, or Jimi Hendrix; even if I didn’t get to live through the greatest decades, musically, of all time ever, I know that they did. And that is what lets me sleep at night.
“Those stinky old people” will one day be us, accept it or not. Might as well make a fair go of it while we’re here. I’d rather be that “weird old lady with a tattoo on her arm and funky sunglasses who’s always smiling” than “that weird old lady who’s face is all bumpy with silicone and has a literal fake smile”. Anyways, I love my grandmother, and I’d never trade watching the 5:30 news with her for the world. I wouldn’t even trade it for a chance to see David Bowie in concert. (And that’s not something I say lightly.)
Don’t forget the glitter- iamtheseventies