Gwen Peterson: Sows Ear 7-23-12
You say you’re getting old? You say your memory’s shot? You say your joints hurt? You say your feet have turned into duck feet? You say you can’t hold your water? You say your only remaining passions are eating and sleeping and both of those are threatened?
You say your walking ability has turned into a hobble and shuffle gait? You say that to live longer, you have to give up everything that makes you want to live longer? You say you’ve developed powerful muscles that allow you to sit for long periods of time?
You say you thought age would make you more tolerant and it turns out you just don’t give a big rat’s patoot? You say any running you do now is probably from your nose or other orifices we won’t mention? You say your crowning glory has become a thin embarrassment of wispy tendrils? Or gone missing entirely and now you have to wear sunscreen on your pate?
You say if you sit on a low chair, couch or commode, you’re trapped? You say that in the mornings, before you can get out of bed you must first think about it for 20 minutes? You say you drool while sleeping? You say your belly, boobs and butt cheeks have succumbed to gravity? You say you’re 2-inches shorter than you used to be? You say those brown spots on your skin are not freckles? You say you depend on Depends?
Here’s a few ways to make the end gate of life a fun ride. (Some of these tips have been all over the Internet, but hey, if you’re of a certain age, you have already forgotten what you read).
■ When anybody asks you to do something, reply: “You want fries with that?”
■ Going out to eat? Order: “Diet Hot Water.”
■ Going through a drive-through fast food lane? Be sure to tell the 17-year-old leaning out the window to make the order: “To go.”
■ If you attend a concert or opera: “Be sure to sing along.”
■ Five days in advance, tell friends you can’t attend their party or meeting or volunteer to cook something because you: “Have a headache.”
■ When retrieving money from an ATM machine, scream: “I won! I won!”
■ If you visit a zoo, upon leaving, start hobbling fast as you can toward the parking lot while yelling: “Run For Your Lives! The animals are loose!” (This also works at feed lots and livestock auction yards, but not as well.)
■ Pick up a box of condoms or a package of incontinent pads at the pharmacy. Then ask the clerk: “Where are the fitting rooms?”
You say you’re worried that Social Security, Medicare, Assisted Living, and Nursing Homes won’t be there for you? Don’t fret. All us antediluvian coots, crones, old soreheads, curmudgeons and you few “aging-gracefully” lot can rest easy. The Government has a solution. It’s brilliant. Not only will this new innovative idea solve the problem of caring for us oldsters, it will also help save the economy.
In order to lower Social Security and Medicare costs the Immigration Department is going to start deporting seniors to Guantanamo Bay once the political prisoners are all gone. The facility is being refurbished with hot tubs, recreational shuffle board, old movies, Lawrence Welk tunes, and Bingo once a week. Congress is drafting a bill to make deportation mandatory after a certain age. Older people are easy to catch and even if they should object, most will not remember how to get back home.
When I read this report, I felt sad, downhearted and blue. But hey, maybe I’ll see you on the bus? ❖
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