Why is “Old” a Dirty Word?
You're supposed to go directly from middle age to “you’re-just-as-old-as-you-feel?”
This is the Snarky Sunday edition of Snarky Senior — the newsletter from Erica Manfred, which you can read about here. If you like it and don’t want to miss an issue, you can get it in your inbox by subscribing.
Growing old used to be considered part of the natural progression of life from birth to death. Not anymore. Now we go directly from middle age to “you’re-just-as-old-as-you-feel.”
“Old age” has been dropped from our vocabulary. When I was in my early 70s and used the word “old” to describe myself, I was usually met by a horrified expression and the immediate rejoinder “you’re not old” I’ve had an assortment of age-related ailments and a generous complement of sags and wrinkles for a long time. If I’m not old who is?
Now that I’m in my late 70s I don’t get as many protestations, just a quick change of subject.
Aging gracefully today is fraught with expectations that never existed in our parents and grandparents generation—expectations I, for one, can’t meet. That generation was expected to retire to the proverbial rocking chair on the porch. But my age mates are not going gently into that good night. They expect to be able to ski, play tennis, run marathons, bicycle, swing dance and even sky dive indefinitely.
I am assailed daily with stories of elders who do amazing things at advanced ages—run marathons at 85, teach yoga at 90, bungee jump at 96. These stories are supposed to be inspiring. I find them depressing. I will never do any of those things. The rest of us old folks—who actually suffer from common ailments of aging such as cancer, arthritis, heart disease or emphysema feel left behind in the mad rush to never get old.
I wind up wanting to stay home because trying to keep up is humiliating. For instance, I am reluctant to accept invitations for such activities as visiting a museum with friends my age because I can’t stand up or walk for very long. I find myself apologizing in advance for not being a great companion. It is humiliating. I have an 82 year old very sociable friend with spinal stenosis, a common—and painful--ailment of older people. She is unstable on her feet, and can’t get around without a walker. She refuses to go out because she’s ashamed to be seen with a walker. This attitude further marginalizes older people who are already segregated from the mainstream. It’s no wonder loneliness is becoming an epidemic among seniors.
Once upon a time slowing down physically and mentally as you got older was a sign of normal aging. These days slowing down with age is seen as your own fault. It means you’re not eating right, working out, taking the right supplements, thinking positive enough.
A few years ago I went to a Gerontology Conference. Even though it was supposed to be a conference about aging, very few of the attendees were actually old. Most were Gen Xers and millenials who had taken on some aspect of “aging” as their career path.
We journalists were treated to a dinner that was on the second floor of a restaurant with no elevator. I had a hell of a time getting up that long flight of steps. When I complained to the organizer about it, telling him that I’m 73, I don’t do stairs, and asked why he hadn’t had the dinner in an accessible place, he said “Well I’m 71,” as if that was a sufficient explanation.
Yes, there are many people in their seventies—and even eighties— who do not have any physical limitations, who can do everything they did at fifty, and more power to them. Joe Biden, Anthony Fauci, Nancy Pelosi and Bernie Sanders, just to name a few of the oldsters who are running the country, are bundles of energy in old age. But not being one of them makes me feel like a pariah among my peers.
Denial of aging can come with a hefty price. A spry 79-year-old tennis player I know climbed up on the kitchen counter to change a light bulb. She fell off and broke her hip and lay on the floor for hours until someone found her. There’s no way someone her age in my mother’s generation would have tried that stunt. They knew their limitations.
Even retirement communities advertise themselves as for the “active senior.” If you’re not active you better move somewhere else.
A distinction is made these days by the medical community when it comes to aging. Those in their 60s and early 70s are considered the “young old,” the boomers who are still in good health. But by the time you get to your 80s and 90s you’re the “old old,” and expectations for health and athleticism drop.
Maybe by the time I reach my 80s maybe I’ll get cut some slack. It’s only a matter of time until I get to be unashamedly old. At that point I intend to plunk myself into my rocker on the porch and to hell with aging gracefully.
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If you know someone who doesn’t take themselves too seriously and might enjoy some snark in their inbox once or twice a week, forward this newsletter their way. You can subscribe (and link to it) here. Email me anytime at Askerica@gmail.com. Suggestions and feedback welcome.
I have to believe a LOT of people agree with you. I love to hear you explain it, because honestly, I'm not there yet -- though I surely will be in time--and a lot of people get stuck in their own personal sense of achievement and are not the least sensitive to others who CAN'T do that. Very well said. Thank you.