This comment immediately started a clamor amongst the workers and volunteers at the local Senior Center. "She don't need that extra; that is bad for her heart." and "If she doesn't watch it she will get fat."and "Now every one will want extra." as well as other comments were sent flying across the room. I volunteer occasionally, sometimes with a twisted arm, and other times not, because I really enjoy the buzz of a Senior Center. If you seek cheap entertainment, this is the place to be.
As I was listening, while drinking my third cup of coffee, my mind started whirring a bit.
What am I going to do when I am 87? Exacty. Whatever the hell I want to. If I make it to 87 I think I will have an extra biscuit please, among some other treats. I proposed this thinking to the group. There was a pause in the room for less than a minute, then everyone started in on what they would do if they made it to 87. This is when it got interesting. As the workers thought about the question their true personalities started to come out.
I started off with orange hair. Hey, if the lady out front can have orange hair why can't I? "I am going to play my banjo poorly (as usual), on the front porch, while chewing on my extra sausage biscuit, with orange hair."
Then came the obligatory " I am gonna get stoned." ; this started a Bevis and Butt Head twenty minutes that no one will ever get back. Once getting stoned was out of the way the real bright ideas started flowing.
"I'm going to start back smoking."
"I'm, going to eat pork." (maybe she was Jewish?)
"I'm going to fart all day long, in public."
"Not going to shave my arm pits, or legs; I am going to drink booze all day, and mess my pants." (winner winner, chicken dinner)
"I am going to let my dog run off."
"I am going to be bossy."
Thinking for my spouse, I suggested that she would eat bon bons, and read romance books all day. I looked back on when my grandfather (mother's side) Asa A. Gullet was still with us. He did not make it to 87, but he had a good plan. He solicited the idea of taking cold showers to anyone who would listen. He also ate dry wheat toast and drank pots of coffee while he rambled on in monotones about his life on the farm, or droned out the last couple of verses to his latest poem. Most of the family thought of this activity of his as being somewhat annoying, but I found a weird comfort in it. He was doing what made him happy and I applaud that.
My grandmother (father's side), was way too cautious in my opinion. She would have done well dying her hair orange and farting in public. She was always aware of perceptions, and politeness; that is unless if it had to do with another race. Maybe if she had done something that she really thought was out of the box she would have smiled more often. She was content with pickling peppers, and sewing hems, and eating beets.
If you are a Senior and you are not going to a Senior Center, you are missing out. A Senior Center is like a country club without the booze and golf. Some people just go to church and they make that their social gathering place. That is good I guess, but you really will miss a lot if you just stick with the church crowd. There are some hilarious people at a Senior Center.
If I make it to 87 I am going to.....
Wear a Speedo,
grow a pony tail,
get a tattoo,
dye my hair orange,
and annoy as many people as possible.
What are you going to do?