Tagged: old age Toggle Comment Threads | Keyboard Shortcuts

  • hardie karges 3:06 pm on October 9, 2015 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: angst, old age, seniors   

    Meet-up Group Forming ASAP: Angst-Ridden Seniors Without Borders… 

    Don’t you just love the silver-haired ‘active older adults’ that populate ads for health insurance and Viagra (TM), they with the mile-wide smiles and wheat-straw hair, usually standing in a field of wheat itself, often in tennis shoes or hiking boots! There’s usually even a sunset (hint hint) imparting an other-wordly glow to these nothing-but-worldly faces, celebrating a life well-lived and ‘golden years’ well-deserved…

    I mean: you can almost see the looks on the faces of their four kids and sixteen grand-kids, mathematically precise and evolutionarily predictable, all the major possibilities for DNA replication and re-combination well represented and accounting for most of the usual copying mistakes and single-letter deletions typical in biological existence on Planeta Tierra. But aren’t we assuming a lot and taking a bit for granted? What if they don’t have kids, or—God forbid—hair? Now that’s different…

    I mean: what if I don’t want to stand in a field of wheat or spend the rest of my life touring the lower forty-eight in in a Winnebago or Airstream self-contained dream-mobile with all my customary wastes and acts of will all going down in their proper place in their proper time?

    So why don’t they have ads for over-60 hotties and seniors’ sex clubs, and what about suicide hot-lines and student loans and credit applications? Huh? What? They do what? MILF means what? I thought that was the Moro Islamic Liberation Front!  

    (So that explains why they keep asking me for money! I thought they looked strange for jihadis, but hey, strange is strange! Where have I been? Angst-ridden seniors unite! We’re tired of being taken for granted as over the hill and out to pasture. And we need better drugs, too just kidding)…

  • hardie karges 8:09 am on September 28, 2008 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , old age   

    I depend on the kindness of strangers 

    for the love to sustain me, not sex, but love. Alone for years, I got my love from dogs and children, memories and speculation. Recollecting a long lost incident would send shivers up my spine. Kids are great in any language, not yet hard and cold like the cities we build them. I could extract the love from a rock. This is rapture of the deep, the euphoria of terminal decadence, the smile of a man who knows that death is near. The walls that surround me have doors that open out to worlds beyond. I’m at odds with the world but getting even with Nature, killing time before it kills me. I’m learning to crawl again as growing pains fade at 50 and rigor mortis sets in like a Flagstaff winter, cold and hard, the stiffening that comes with age, an old baguette ready to be starch for the soup.

Compose new post
Next post/Next comment
Previous post/Previous comment
Show/Hide comments
Go to top
Go to login
Show/Hide help
shift + esc