Old People

Last week I was walking to class with Gus and we saw an old man jogging as best he could with some freakishly huge old-person sunglasses on, and he totally ran across the street when he didn't have the walk signal and slowed traffic, but it was heartwarming to see that even though he was really out of it he had something to dedicate his time to. Then we walked about 100 more feet and saw another old guy washing his crappy hatchback car from like 1970. Gus made a comment along the lines of "look at these old people, just taking pride in their lives." At first I agreed with him, I was happy that these old people weren't just sitting around feeling sorry for themselves and watching FOX News or Andy Griffith reruns. But then I realized that I was proud of an old man for washing his car. He could have spent the rest of the day sitting in his own filth eating peanuts, and I still would have thought he was the greatest. For whatever reason, age causes us to lose our standards for people. If that old man was 30 years younger, people would have thought he was a lazy piece of shit, because he doesn't have a job and washes his shitty car all day. When he's 70? people react like he was walking on the god-damned moon.
To be honest, my aspirations for old age aren't much bigger than washing a shitty car, but at least I have a plan. I'm going to plant a huge peach tree in the middle of my front yard, and put HOURS of work into making it grow the most delicious peaches in town. Then I'm going to sit on my porch in stained underwear and a pair of boots with a shotgun full of salt rock. When the neighborhood kids come and try to steal my delicious peaches, they'll get a painful surprise. Then as their running away I'll yell "Git off my prop'ty!" in a crazy old-man voice.