Yikes! – Yesterday I went to the local farmers’ market. It’s a large one inside a building. I wanted something specific from one of the vendors. I thought I would treat myself to a bear claw at the donut shop. … Continue reading
Legal Disclaimer – if YOU are a grey head this does not apply to you. It only applies to other grey heads who are not near as nice as you are.
Did you know that Pennsylvania is the second “oldest” state in the nation? The aging population is second only to Florida. I firmly believe that at least 95% of those folks live in my area. Since I have had the freedom to shop during the day, I have found them shuffling in places they should not be. (That would be anywhere I need to be.) I visited our local farmers’ market on a Thursday morning. It was jammed. I thought there was a fire sale on vegetables! Everyone was doing some sort of orthotic shuffle, some using carts as a walker. Not a good idea as they can’t see what’s in front of them. I had my hips bashed a couple of times and my toes run over (note to self – steel-tipped shoes for the farmers’ market). It seems that when you get older you do not need to be polite or apologize for nearly killing someone. Everyone just takes it in stride.
They pinch, squash and bruise the produce. They elbow in front of you and then act innocent…”were you in line? Oh, I didn’t realize that.” I most enjoy the loving couples. In a way, they are cute and endearing, a lot like a pair of teenagers who just discovered body parts. I often wonder if they treated each other so well when they were younger. Probably not. The outfits are a bit wild – you would be surprised at what works (or doesn’t) with orthotic shoes and walkers. Hats are big too. Men seem to prefer what is called a “flat hat.” That’s the correct name because Wikipedia said so. It’s the one where the part that sits on the head is smooshed over the brim. Golfers often wear them. No one under 80 does.
Driving near them is an adventure. They drive BIG cars where their heads are just little bumps above the seats. Their maximum speed is 25 mph (often in the passing lane); they turn left on red; and putz just enough so I miss the green light while they continue to cruise on their merry way. My car cannot drive that slowly! That speed is between gears. The poor car wants me to speed up or stop. There are no other choices.
Personally, I don’t intend to be a grey head, at least as long as Clairol is a functioning business and I can squeeze my toes into (somewhat) fashionable shoes. I do intend to wear a lot of purple and maybe a hat!