Senior Citizen Day

I had to table recently at a Senior Citizen Expo. I think if I didn't do illiteracy as my non profit, I would definately do Senior Citizens. Wait, that didn't sound right. Oh well.

When you sit at a table all day watching SC's, you get a good hard look at what it's going to be like when you're old yourself. Because of theater makeup one time where I played Goody Somebody in the Crucible (I was the old lady who got burned at the stake because of a poppet!!), I got to see a reasonable approximation of what I was going to look like as an old lady, liver spots and all. Yikes.

But watching SC's go by, you get a more robust picture of what aging will be like. And on that note, here are some things I've decided.

No one will ever put bunny ears or any other cutsy headress on me just because I'm 85 years old and toodling around the mall with other Seniors. If some middle aged jerk approaches me with sparkly antennaes, I hope I still have the presence of mind to whop her with my cane. I hope that cane is made of steel.

If I end up in a wheelchair, I hope that I'm freewheeling like old lady Maybelle who was at the SC Expo. She was flying down those aisles, and was actually a danger to other Senior Citizens! Somebody yelled, "Hey, Maybelle!" She stopped on a dime and whirled around, "Hey, what??" I hope I can master the art of sit-and-spin when I'm that age. If I don't have to be in a wheelchair, I hope I can do the laps around the mall one couple was making. With an Ipod.

I hope I'm not a greedy bastard. Some old goat cleaned me out of pencils at my table. "Oh, I love pencils!" He croaks. And took them all. Greedy old bastard. My director says, though, that they (SC's) love free stuff and will take whatever you bring in whether they need it or not. They didn't take any volunteer applications, though.

I hope I remember not to buy bad polyester suits for myself when I'm old, but to stick with those nice, soft velour track suits. They're so much more flattering, and seem to be more comfortable. I also hope I have my sense of identity nailed down, as it must take a strong sense of self to pull off wearing pink hair and three earrings in each ear (but with flowery, antique earrings, LOL) with my track suit.

Obviously, I hope I'm not half deaf, senile or dangerously diabetic.

I hope I have good stories to tell, and appreciative whipper-snappers to listen to them. I heard about a 65 year old marriage, a WW2 Vet's time in Belgium, and so much more. I want great stories to tell.

--Virgil