Just let the old lady in

Sometimes I can hardly believe what I’m saying. Sentences come out of my mouth that I immediately want to stuff back in. They’re the ones that old people use, the ones my parents and grandparents used to say. They usually start the same way: As I get older…, I remember when…, Young people today…, It gets you out of the house…,There was a time… and then things simply go downhill from there. Pretty soon I’m going to succumb to the very worst: Speak up, stop mumbling. How can I, still so youthful and definitely younger than my parents and grandparents ever were, be using such tired old phrases?

Those admissions of defeat just need to be banished. Some people have a swear jar, but I think I’m going to institute a weary old person jar. Instead of dropping a coin inside when one of these phrases drops from my lips, I’ll have to pay a forfeit such as listening to a song by Charli xcx, drinking a skinny oat turmeric matcha latte or playing Minecraft. The sort of things a young person might do. This should serve as a short sharp shock designed to bring me back into the present with a jolt. I’ll thoroughly enjoy deciding on the forfeits, but I don’t think I’ll like having to pay them. Maybe just imagining the experience will be enough of a deterrent.

The problem is that it’s very comfortable to stick with what you know. And apparently comfort is the enemy of a full life. It’s so easy to stay where you are rather than venturing out into the unknown. But what is the answer? Do we need to embark on a life of extreme activity just to prove that we’re still alive? Will I be a more dynamic person if I start zipwiring over canyons and deep-sea diving in the Mediterranean? I’d certainly be a more frightened person and possibly exhilarated at the time, but I doubt it would have any lasting effect.

Thinking about it a little more, I’ve decided to stage a rebellion, to go against all the truisms of our time. I’m going to become a caricature of an old lady. I’m planning to groan every time I get up from a chair (or is it when you sit down?), moan about the youth of today (do they really need to eat so many avocados?), and tell anyone within earshot how difficult my childhood was. It sounds much more rewarding than zipwiring and, rather than being a one-off thrill, it’ll be the gift that keeps on giving.