In this thread, I talked about my harrowing experience in an old people restaurant (well, not so harrowing, just not so tasty. Although we didn’t try any appetizers, and some of them looked yummy). In the thread, Cicero pointed out:
Fair point. In the restaurant, the people I saw were in their seventies or eighties.
When I was a teenager, 25 was old. Now I’m in my thirties, and all of a sudden, forties and fifties still seem very young to me. My parents are in their sixties and my grandparents are in their eighties. I don’t think my parents are old; they still seem middle-aged to me. They’re very active, they travel a lot, my mom still teaches, and my dad still runs every day (or nearly).
I know, objectively, that my grandparents are old; mid-eighties is old. But, like my parents, they’re still active. My grandmother still teaches, just fewer students and she turns away anyone she doesn’t like. My grandfather still goes jogging, and both of them are still very active. They do nap everyday, which, personally, I think is a civilzed habit. They still travel, and they keep in touch with their relatives and friends via email.
So what’s old to me? I would have to say seventies or eighties, but it depends on the person. The more active and involved they are, the longer they can push back old age. Of course, both sides of my genetic heritage are long-lived – into their nineties, so my perspective may be skewed.
I think most folks think of “old people” as people of their parents’ generation. I am 57 years old. To me, “old people” means those who are 75 and over.
It’s all relative, though. My late Grandma Jennie was a ball of fire who continued functioning well into her nineties. When she was in her late eighties, she began to volunteer at a nearby nursing home. She trundled a cart full of books and magazines around to each room and helped the nursing home residents choose some reading matter that interested them. She even took requests, and went to used bookstores to find specific books that the residents wanted to read. Once I asked Grandma Jennie whether she enjoyed her volunteer work, and she said that she got a lot of gratification out of being able to “help the old people.” She didn’t mention that many of “the old people” were younger than she was!
FTR, I’m almost 21, and I’m already worried that I’m getting too old to make sure that I get everything out of life. I mean, I look up from my books and I realize that over 20 years— which may even be as much as one quarter of my lifespan — has already gone by, and I haven’t even started a career yet!
Old is when you wear black shoes and socks with shorts. It also has to do with how high your waistband is, and whether you can see over the steering wheel.
Old is when the kids you used to babysit for are turning gray.
Old is when you look through your high school yearbook, and realize that most of them are no longer living.
Old is when you go to “Cafe Society” and don’t know what any of the threads are about.
I think I’m old because tonight I watched a little bit of Simon Rattle conducting Mahler’s Eighth Symphony at the 2002 Proms on Discovery HD. I looked at the orchestra and wondered ‘Is that a Youth Symphony Orchestra?’
My great-grandmother would stop by the mirror before she left our house, to reapply her bright red lipstick. Why? Because, she said, you never know when you’re going to meet your next boyfriend. She also liked to stop kids on their skateboards to ask if she could hop a ride. I hope I’m that cool when I’m 95.
Does that mean I’m still a kid? I can live with that.
I’ll be 35 at the end of this year. My mother will be 70 one week later. She’ll finally be twice my age, and it terrifies me because that is old.
So I guess twice my age is old.
I did, however, have a Great-Aunt Dollie, who, at age 93, married a man named Tommy, who was 95. They lived a rather fun life together somewhere in southern California, for about eight years, and died within a few months of each other. Old? Sure, but they didn’t care. I wouldn’t mind being like old like that.
I more or less agree with this, but “old” as a concept is a strange thing. I remember being a teenager and thinking that people over 30 were just “old.” But old in a different way to those who are over 70, for instance. Now I’m 24 it sort of depresses me to remember thinking of 24 year olds as “almost-old” when I was 15, but logically no-one would say that 24 is, in the scheme of things, old. Does anyone know what I’m talking about?
Ut oh. On reflection this morning, I thought my post might have sounded a bit terse which I never intended it to be. However, Im glad we got a post out of it.
I agree with the postings above. I always thought that someone in their fifties was positively ancient; once reaching it I consider it quite comfortable. People in their 80’s are elderly.
Strangely - or perhaps not- my parents seem to tolerate brain dead teenagers far better than I do.
In our family, our concept of old has been skewed because of my grandmother, who passed away in 2003 at the age of 102. So even though my mother is 84 now, it wasn’t until she passed 80 that we even began to consider that she might be getting old. (She was highly offended by that, too – she seems to want to be an old lady. Why, I have no idea.)
It’s a matter of perspective, though, and that perspective changes as you get older. I like Grandmother’s perspective the best. When she was in her 80s, she told me that every time she looked in a mirror and saw an old lady there, she was shocked because she still felt about 16 inside. So I continue to nurture my Inner Teenager and ignore the outward changes, in hopes that I too can make it to 102 and have all my faculties the whole time.
Cicero, thanks – your post made me think about what Sarah just posted.
Yep. I tried to articulate that, but couldn’t. But if you think it’s depressing now at 24, don’t worry. Right around thirty-ish, it starts being funny. In some ways, I feel younger now than I did in my twenties, because my life is so much freer, richer, just all-around better than it was then. I know, makes no sense, but there it is.
I started reading this thread last night and became intrigued as to where it would go because I percieve this board as being a relatively younger demographic. I hear from lots of college students and people looking for and starting new jobs, young parents, music I never heard of and general concern for things I stopped worrying about a long time ago.
I was an early bloomer. My oldest son is 42. My three kids have given me eight grandkids.(Iwas holding out for a ball team but I think they’re finished).
It has worked out very much to my liking. I am able to play golf, hockey, baseball. etc, with my grandkids,I babysit all the time( they love that 'cause granpa’s cool)
We lived with my grandparents until I was 12yrs. old and they were old. Younger than I am now but old. It seems an oversimpification to just say it was or is, a different time. Even my own father seemed old to me when he was in his 50’s.
I live in my head and even though I don’t do certain things as well as I did when I was younger the point is, I think, *I still do them.[/I
I guess what I am trying to say is that it is a very subjective concept. Some people get old real quick. Some people fight it with a passion. If someone asked me how old I thought I was, I would probably say in my mid-forties. I am in fact, 62 yrs. A good rule of thumb might be; Look at the person, not the number.
Campion, et al - I have a theory about this. When you are on your twenties, there is a lot of pressure to ‘grow up.’ My oldest son, who is 22, is beset by notions that he’s supposed to know what he wants to ‘do’ when he graduates from college. I tell him that is baloney. When you are young there are a lot of open questions about the future that you just can’t answer. When I graduated from college I didn’t know what my career would be, and I didn’t know where I would live. But that didn’t keep people from asking me ‘What are you going to do?’ as if I was supposed to know The Answer. My answer was always ‘I don’t know.’ What a stressful time that was!
I define middle age as the time in your life when most of the ‘Who, What, Where, When, and How’ questions about your life have been answered. I know what I’m going to do for a living. I know where I’m going to live. I know who my husband is, and I know who my children are. Not everyone may like the answers to these questions once they find them out. But the pressure to answer them is off. There are a lot of good things about being middle-aged because of that.
That’s why, Campion, you say life is freer and richer now for you. Makes sense to me.
I still constantly ask the question of ‘Why?’ But that is a different topic.
Campion, et al - I have a theory about this. When you are on your twenties, there is a lot of pressure to ‘grow up.’ My oldest son, who is 22, is beset by notions that he’s supposed to know what he wants to ‘do’ when he graduates from college. I tell him that is baloney. When you are young there are a lot of open questions about the future that you just can’t answer. When I graduated from college I didn’t know what my career would be, and I didn’t know where I would live. But that didn’t keep people from asking me ‘What are you going to do?’ as if I was supposed to know The Answer. My answer was always ‘I don’t know.’ What a stressful time that was!
I define middle age as the time in your life when most of the ‘Who, What, Where, When, and How’ questions about your life have been answered. I know what I’m going to do for a living. I know where I’m going to live. I know who my husband is, and I know who my children are. Not everyone may like the answers to these questions once they find them out. But the pressure to answer them is off. There are a lot of good things about being middle-aged because of that.
That’s why, Campion, you say life is freer and richer now for you. Makes sense to me.
I still constantly ask the question of ‘Why?’ But that is a different topic.
They still travel, and they keep in touch with their relatives and friends via email.