Old. Dude.

I was working today and I went out to my truck for yet ANOTHER effing tool and while I was crossing the parking I passed a young woman and her father (?) (hopefully he wasn’t her husband) headed into the building.(lots of Doctors offices)

I didn’t want to eavesdrop but her conversation was crystal clear in the early morning air. The old guy was doin’ that half step shuffle that old folks do and she was telling him that after they got his teeth to fit right she would take him home and shave him.

And at first I thought, wow that’s cool that she’s taking care of her dad.

But then, hot on the heels of  that sunny happy thought was one much more disturbing about the old dude. Why? Why would anyone want to get old? Why do we yearn to add the years to our resume like yearly accomplishments to breathing and staying alive?

I climbed up into Big Black and sat for a time behind the wheel pondering.

I mean really WTF? Life starts to suck at a certain age so why keep pushing it along uphill like a rusty creaky wheelbarrow? Getting sicker and sicker and forgetting shit and doddering around looking surprised all the time.

A depressing thought for a Monday. I know. But, honestly? Isn’t Monday when this shit hits?

Fuck.

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One response to “Old. Dude.

  1. That picture is b-e-a-utiful. And I had that same thought recently when driving past a nursing home and noticing someone watching the cars go by from one of the windows (one of the most depressing things ever?!?!). I turned to B and told him that when we get old, to please help me kill myself before it gets to that.

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