Here's another report from way past 50/60

Maude McDaniel, Columnist

Not many folks in the past ever lived past 50 or 60, so there’s not a lot of evidence around on what it’s like, getting old. From time to time, in this column, I try to fill in the blanks.

Take it from me, it’s like nothing you ever lived before.

When I was young, I don’t remember a single time getting up in the morning thinking, “Wow, do I feel young!” When I was middle-aged, I never got out of bed saying, “Wow, do I feel middle-aged!” Hey, now I’m old as I never was before, and you know what? Every single day I crawl out from under the blankets, and my first thought is, “Wow, do I ever feel old.”

This newspaper carried a quote from Dietrich Bonhoeffer a few weeks ago which said something like “If you board the wrong train, it’s no use running along the (aisle) in the other direction.” And he was right. You can’t go against time. But you can observe it as it passes. Sometimes it’s not all bad.

For instance, I have found that I have more clothes to choose from than I ever imagined possible up to about 10 years ago. Luckily, I was never a fashionista, so most of the stuff I ever bought was pretty much timeless (called dated by some), except for a shoulder pad here, a fabric there. If I’m not too fussy (I’m not), I can still wear much of the old stuff. And at my age, I’ve got a lifetime of old stuff to choose from.

Even allowing for sizes I got rid of because I can’t wear them any more (don’t be nosy), my closets are overflowing with more than I can ever wear in one season. If I’d even just get rid of the clothes I don’t like, my closet would be big enough. However, I have discovered that things I didn’t like 15 years ago look pretty good now, so it’s a mistake to dispose of them too hastily.

Anyway, my point is, the older you get, the more clothes you have, and some of them look — OK. Of course, the lesson here, is that you don’t really need to go shopping after the age of 70, but I don’t know a single, um, elderly woman who’s ever learned it.

Then we have wrinkles. Well, you may not have them, but most of us over 70 do. Some of my wrinkles have been around so long they actually have names. (For instance, there’s Mary Joe, on my left cheek, and a whole village of chaps on my right cheek, Joe, and Jim, and Jerry and Jane. Not to mention Grafton, the mole on my right arm.) Everything’s OK now, but you start to worry when they come too fast to tell them apart.

I never had to worry about that when I was young.

Then there are the houseplants. I lost my beautiful close-to-30-year-old gardenia a couple years ago, but I still have an unidentified 20-year-old set of plants that I can only call “green,” an exceedingly unattractive ti plant I started myself about 25 years ago, and a collection of vegetation in one planting that my father gave me in 1978, and was beautiful in its time.

You don’t have things like that when you are young or middle-aged. My kids have been trying to get rid of them for years, and it says something I don’t want to look into that, ugly as these plants are, (and they are), one treasures them at this time in one’s life.

Another thing that distinguishes my present life from my past life is that I just can’t keep up with the slang. It was hard enough to get it right when I was 16 myself. (I was always a trifle uncertain what it meant to be “in the groove,” except I always knew I wasn’t.)

But imagine what it’s like now, with several more layers of cultural small talk to master, without getting mixed up. For instance, is 21st century “cool” the same as hippie “cool?” I suspect not, but the fine points elude me. And nowadays, can anyone tell me what the difference is between “cool” and “hot?” That is, assuming I really want to know, which in this case, maybe, I don’t.

Still getting old and older has its points. The weddings slow down but the funerals speed up. That’s good because funeral food is better. But look out for the time when the funerals start to drop off too. That’s when you know you’re in trouble.

Maude McDaniel is a Cumberland freelance writer. Her column appears on alternate Sundays in the Times-News.