Archive for the ‘Rants and raves (may contain profanity)’ Category

Old Age

August 11, 2010

I have to admit, I’m a people watcher. I don’t have a desire to know what people do so much as how or why they do things. I’m always trying to figure out what their motivations are. So, yesterday I’m sitting on a wooden deck having lunch overlooking the Rogue River when a 60+ year old woman comes by with her 80+ year old mother and some other female friend I guess.

The daughter helps her mother with her walker get to a table not too far away from me. The daughter had to explain every little thing to her mother, had to ask her about the table, whether she wanted to sit next to the aisle or the railing, whether she could see the river, etc., etc., and on and on. Then, a guy with a nail gun starts shooting nails into the wooden floor and the mother turns to look and the daughter says, “Mom, it’s just a nail gun, a nail gun, a nail gun” (I guess the mother is hard of hearing). Then the daughter begins to explain to her mother about the nails, “They come in strips Mom, like bullets from a machine gun Mom.” I’m thinking to myself, why would you describe anything “like a machine gun Mom.” What’s the reasoning for making that kind of description. Was her mother a machine-gunner in World War II? Was her husband killed by a machine gun? What kind of reference was that. Then the daughter starts asking, “Hey Mom, want to split something?” The daughter then proceeds to try to convince her mother to split something. I get it, old people don’t eat much, but hasn’t she earned a meal, a whole meal? Who’s 80+ year old mom doesn’t deserve her own meal, at least her choice in the matter?

So, now they’re talking about excercise and the daughter is telling her mother, “Well, Mom, I know you’ve never enjoyed excercise. Geez, you won’t even go out for a walk. Would a walk kill you?” I’m thinking, she’s 80+ Goddamned years old. What if she doesn’t want to go for walk? What if she’s afraid she’s going to go out on a walk and wind up dying on the side of the road? I think to myself, would it kill you to leave your mom alone for a while and let her enjoy her half of the lunch special?

Anyway, I’m drinking my beer, just eyeing this whole thing wondering about old age. It’s a weird thing, old age. People get old, they get weird. Kids get weird. I don’t think I’m going to do it. Really, what’s the point. So I can split some shitty sandwich with one of my kids and never wake up on the drive back to the “home”? Bah, old age is for pussies.