I'M DIGGING DEEP TO FIND ADVANTAGES TO AGING As 1 write this in the subzero depths of winter, I feel old. Winter makes us feel old, and aging is darned unpleasant. The disadvantages of aging have been completely recorded so you would have no problem reading up on them or, failing that, developing a comprehensive list of your own. However, the advantages of aging are not as well noted, and I thought I'd better start writing them down before I forget them. As age progresses, if you have any sex drive left you can now relax. The incubation period for most sexually transmitted diseases probably exceeds your life expectancy. This means those of you who are unattached can fool around without worries of debilitating sickness. Unfortunately, you have to fool around with old people, which is a real bummer. I remember sitting on a bench by a shuffleboard court at a condo project in Florida. I had settled beside a real old guy, one who must have spent many winters in Florida. He had that wrinkled mahogany look, with a fallen mouth because he didn't wear his teeth. A nubile young woman, dressed in the minimum, bobbled by us and this old guy followed every quiver and bounce. 1 sighed to him,, "Doesn't it ever go away?" He didn't answer me, feigning deafness, but all evidence points to a lifelong instinct that men can't shake. I've often thought that I should devote the rest of my aged life to crime. The Globe and Mail reports that a man named Sid Chaney began swindling banks at age 65, taking out loans in the name of his pets. Mr. Chaney says, "If you're old, people see you as a stereotype. I would totter in to a bank, drop my walking stick, and before you know it they're giving me a cheque book." That's a good ploy, though it seems that the banks would inevitably trace Mr. Chaney and run him to ground. For my foray into crime, I think smuggling liquor or cigarettes would be a better scam. The border people, like the bankers, buy into this aged stereotype. They're on the lookout for terrorists and they calculate that some doddering, confused, old white haired guy is unlikely to have 40 pounds of dynamite strapped to his chest. He may be smuggling a couple of bottles of Pepto-Bismol, but that's about it. So I'm buying a big old Ford Crown Victoria and loading her up with cancer sticks. I figure, what if I get caught, how long is life imprisonment for me anyway? Five years? I don't know, maybe longer, because with three meals a day and lots of time to sleep, jail would fit right in with my schedule. This may drive young people insane, but it's just the ticket for us old folks. As you get older, you don't have to be as careful about abrogating social customs, either. You can say the most bizarre things, and people will conclude you're just eccentric or crazy. | remember an old guy sitting on my porch after dowsing the property for water. He was amenable to a beer, and-as he drank it, he broke wind with sufficient violence to cause the deck to vibrate and for Diane to flinch as if rammed with a cattle prod. He didn't care. Take him or leave him, and he would just as soon you leave him. Speaking of alcohol, there's another advantage of aging. It used to take several strong belts to give me a lift. Now, I can get going on a couple of healthy shots. I'm now what we used to call a cheap date. And let's face it, we oldsters are lousy drivers. We creep along the highway at the speed limit or just below it, giving plenty of time for our slowed reactions to work, and giving the cars piled up behind us reason to curse at our tortoise-like pace. We forget that a few short years ago, we were them, and now we wonder aloud at their furious hurry. I remember my Dad creeping out of the one lane dirt Continued on page 10 | Tree Trimming & Removal Brush chippin Lot clearing 2 Firewood Hardwood & Softwood lumber - Glenn Guernsey 476-3757 |