June Renew: Day Four
Grotesque Grandpa Joe
There’s one thought that goes through my head every time I see photos of Joe Biden: “He’s so f*cking old.” I hate looking at him. He’s nauseating. And I’m really not trying to come off agist or whatever. I don’t have an aversion to old people like Dee from Always Sunny. Pretty much just Joe. He and my dad are the same age, so I’m not opposed to the elderly. But Joe and all other eightysomethings in Congress make a good case for term limits.
Well, maybe that is a little ageist. Plenty of our elders are sharp as a tack and have no underlying issues. And, God willing, we’re all going to get to that point in our lives too.
It’s only today realized today that I’m not going to be hip forever. Not like I’m hip now, but in general, I don’t get to be this age forever. I’ll age just like the rest of them, since time slows down for no one. I’ll get old and wrinkly too. Younger ladies will raise an eyebrow at my fashion choices when my sagging skin doesn’t allow for it.
Maybe it’s not my place to silently judge those who’ve felt the sting of Father Time already, because before I know it, I’ll be marching along to his beat one day too.
Old Lady Gines
When I was 21, I did a summer internship at HBO. I took the train into the city every day. My line had to transfer at Summit in order to pick up the line into Manhattan. Each day, one of the younger kids I knew from high school boarded along with me, and we’d sit together and hang out and talk until I had to switch lines. He was going into his senior year and doing a summer program at another high school. One of the days, we were in a train car with a group of high schoolers who were being nothing short of obnoxious. They were loud and yelling and throwing things and just doing what a bunch of rowdy teenagers do. Being the Karen I am, I asked them to please keep it down, as it was early in the morning and they were being disruptive.
Of course a bunch of teenagers weren’t going to stand for that. I heard them making fun of me, and my immaturity allowed me to make fun of them right back. As I said goodbye to my friend and got off the train, I could see the group in the windows flipping me off, so I flipped them off right back I felt like a d*ckhead after, but I was tired of these young whippersnappers not respecting their elders, or something to that extent.
The next day, my friend boarded the train and said that group asked him “why was he hanging out with that old lady.” I was incensed. Old? I was 21! These damn kids ruining my day and now I was old in their eyes. I guess crotchetiness has no age limit when it really comes down to it. But it also proves that no matter what age you are, someone younger is right behind you, ready to call you old without a second glance.
Can’t Reset the Clock
Aging can be a real bitch. I’m only 38 but I do feel my age upon me. I’m not as spry as I once was. I finally understand this Louis CK joke. I don’t see a young woman in the mirror anymore, just someone seasoned by time. And it’s okay. It’s okay to see the inevitability of it all while hoping other people see the same.
I don’t need anyone telling me Ol’ Joe can take anyone in a fight or that 11-year-olds should have voting rights. There’s a respect that comes with each age we notch onto our belts, and it’d be ridiculous to expect anyone to get it if they haven’t reached that stage yet. Sometimes the passage of time is the only true disinfectant on the growing-up process. You can’t force anyone into understanding life experiences until they’ve gotten it for themselves, and you can’t expect literal children to make adult decisions. I have to remember all of this. Though your time on this earth doesn’t always denote maturity, there’s something to be said about the span of time you’ve put in to gain the knowledge you have.
But given the chance, I might still flip those little brats off again. Real mature, I know.