Respect Authority

I am so psyched to be old.

Seriously. I think there’s a very under-addressed misconception among people my age, our age, that being old is awful. That entering one’s 60s or 70s or 80s means wearing adult diapers and living in nursing homes, and most importantly means moving ever-closer to certain death.

Well I say fuck all that. Being old is going to be great. Think of it like a great big delicious dinner. You spend the first part of your life buying ingredients, then you cook the dinner and you start to smell how awesome it’s going to be and you taste some and its fly as hell and then the dinner is ready and you eat it — if you’re smart you eat it slowly and enjoy every moment, but maybe you also stop to take a hit and then wolf down the rest with heightened senses — and then you’re done and full and content. (By the way I’m selling this entire paragraph to Chicken Soup For The Age-Aphobic Soul).

See, being old is the content part. It’s the part where you’ve had a great many servings and it was so good but you’re full and sated and totally ready to sit on the couch and watch some TV and eventually, not now but eventually, nod off to sleep.

I guess I should explain. It’s not that I want to die. I’m not saying I’ve had my fill of pizza and look forward to a good long (eternal) nap. So don’t get your panties in a twist. Rather, my longing for the geriatric stage of my life stems from so many other things, practical things, all of which I outlined in a scribbled note to myself yesterday evening on the subway, a note which has since evolved into this post. See, on my commute home yesterday I sat across from an old woman in a bucket hat. Seriously, a bucket hat. I’ve never understood the purpose of a bucket hat: obviously it keeps sun out of your eyes, but do you need it to keep the sun out of your hair? Or is it really just so much effort to dab a little sunscreen on the tips of your ears? Do you really wake up in the morning and think “Nah, sunscreen’s a lot of work, I’ll just make my entire head look retarded today?” 

In any case, all of this is irrelevant because it wasn’t sunny outside, and even if it had been it was nighttime, and even if it wasn’t we were on the subway. And I thought to myself - look at this bizarre little woman, wearing a bucket hat at night on the subway in the middle of New York City, which arguably has one of the lowest bucket-hat-per-capita ratios in the country.

And then it dawned on me: This little woman, who was also by the way wearing bright red lipstick and a floral coat, can totally get away with wearing a bucket hat - because she’s old. Beyond the briefest of glimpses from dedicated observers like myself, no one will ever think twice about the fact that Grandma Bucket Hat is wildly unfashionable - or woefully unskilled with makeup.

And so it began -  Reasons Kira is Totally Psyched to be Old:

1. You can wear whatever you want when you’re old. Bucket hats, sure, but the possibilities are far more varied. You know how little kids get really hyped on certain articles of clothing - often those least appropriate for public appearances (tutus, dinosaur masks, etc.) - and their parents ultimately indulge the bizarre outfits rather than start a tantrum over it? Well this is like that, but even better because you buy your own clothes, and there’s no one to stop you from leaving the house.

2. You can stare at people with impunity. Old people have a keen eye, afforded to them by years of passing judgment on their peers and subordinates, as well as by thick-rimmed bifocals. The elderly, and especially old women, have managed the head-to-toe staredown in a manner made incredible by virtue of its sheer brazenness. The least discreet of geezers will even roll their eyes or audibly huff at things that offend or annoy them - like baggy pants, or minorities.

3. You can watch awful television. Of the few old people I know, and the even smaller segment that has access to a TV and understands things like electricity, not a one of them watches anything even vaguely culturally relevant, save maybe 20/20 or 60 Minutes, or any other show with numbers in the title. Instead, old people are huge fans of police dramas and mysteries, court procedurals and game shows. Considering I watch most of these programs already, I find myself well-armed for the coming onslaught of frailty. I plan to put a down payment on my first Barca lounger next month. 

4. You can live on other people’s money. Even though the obvious caveat to this is that my generation may very well never see a cent of Social Security, the principle remains in tact. Once you’re old enough and retired enough, you can rest somewhat more comfortably knowing that younger and more virile taxpayers are footing the bill for your bi-weekly trips to the doctor’s office. And since you’ve already served your debt to society - regardless of whether your life was spent flipping burgers or curing diseases - you’re off the hook for payback. Aside from the death tax. 

5. You can wax philosophical - on anything. Old people are full of all kinds of wisdom, on subjects that range from international politics to the best parking space at the grocery store. But with knowledge afforded to them by years of simply being alive, the elderly are free to spout off, at will, on any number of topics - and we as the younger and less experienced masses can do little except listen and respect their findings, however silly, nonsensical or downright insane they are. Granted, contributing at will to a restriction-free blog affords me many of these same liberties now, as well as the stability of mind to put them to good use, but I feel the rambling thoughts of my age-addled brain will be far more entertaining, and enlightening, than the completely logical conclusions I draw in my 20s. At the very least, I plan to curse more. 

6. You can be wildly inappropriate. Hand in hand with the cursing comes the elderly’s carte blanche on inappropriate jokes, cynical commentary and unmonitored bodily functions. What would be considered political incorrect - or downright disgusting - among people aged 60 and under, suddenly becomes anything from tolerable to hilarious once you have six-plus decades under your belt. 

7. And the clincher - you can go on cruises. Let me tell you, if there was no white-trash/elderly stigma surrounding cruises these days, I would be on one faster than you can say “adult diapers.” Nonstop eating, drinking, swimming and sightseeing, all within the confines of an easy-to-navigate and tackily luxurious monster ship. I look forward to on-board raffles and dance parties, as well as nonstop cruise food, which I will devour with abandon, since I plan to wear a one-piece bathing suit with a thigh-length skirt. I also plan to pick up useless trinkets at various ports of call, and distribute them to friends and family as Christmas gifts, which they will accept graciously and keep forever simply because they think I’m too senile to know better.

So there you have it. Death schmeath, being old is arguably the heyday of one’s life. …That is, if heydays were measured by things like “freedom to burp in public” and “ability to fall asleep at random.”