Booting along Hwy 21 with the radio cranked waiting for the next singalong, I heard the catchwords ‘too old to enjoy it...’. The DJ – a young guy, Obviously – was talking about the lottery. Wait a minute, did he really say that?
Evidently, his pet beef was ‘old people’ winning fortunes. Hmm, would he object if it was elderly Uncle Pete that came into a few million – the old codger who’d made him sole beneficiary? I think not. There was a lot of banter about the cons of seniors drawing the magic numbers. It was a waste considering they couldn’t do anything fun with it. Yep, those were his words. Yagottabekiddinme! How old was this guy, twelve??
Since you have to be 18 years of age to buy a ticket, he reasoned, then it seemed only right there be an age limitation on the other end. The announcer flat out said that it would be better all around if people only between the ages of 18 to 65 were eligible to enter the lottery. He pointed out that it’s ludicrous for 80-year-olds to come into seriously big bucks. After all, what could they possibly do with it? Oh, pleeze…
May I digress? Are you aware that the term ‘senior citizen’ has become politically incorrect? Whaat?? Although, I do recall thinking that the store clerk made ‘senior citizen day’ sound like an obscenity when she issued my discount. Apparently, the word ‘senior’ is still okay though. Geesh, I can’t keep up. When it’s improper to use the ‘S’ word, what will take its place? After racking my brain for an alternate term, nothing comes to mind. Must be my age. Where was I?
We have to fight this age limitation idea. The next thing you know the little sods will be protesting senior discounts, and, ye gads, the old age pension. Objectors with angry ‘Say No to Seniors’ signs will be blocking the stunning landscaped entrance to our gated communities. Before long, the aged will be barred from Caesar’s Casino and the Vegas strip will be near empty. Old people shouldn’t be there anyway. They have no idea how to have fun. And Bingo. What’s to become of Bingo? With the over 65s disqualified, they can call B19 all night long without a winner. Where’s the excitement in that?
Speaking of geriactric excitement, I remember Dad checking his lottery tickets one night. I’ve forgotten how the mixup occurred but he’d recorded the winning number and his ticket number. He then confused the two – he was a senior. Anyway, he thought he’d hit the big one. The mistake lasted only four or five seconds. But, man, in those few seconds he knew unmitigated bliss. Boom! That’s what I’m talkinbout!
If I were a caller on this youngster’s radio show I might say, ‘Don’t kid yourself, sweet cheeks, the whole world would be boring if it weren’t for the geezers out looking for a good time’.
If old folks weren’t interested in pleasurable activities, park communities would become ghost towns – trailer doors hanging off their hinges. Florida would be filing for bankruptcy. Restaurant owners would be staring at empty parking lots on Tuesdays at four. Highways would be eerily quiet without the Class A motor homes humming by just under the speed limit.
This is ridiculous. The younger generation is not that daft to think that wrinklies live a sedate and boring life because they’re old. No, they just need to win the lottery.