Old redefined

What is “old”?

I’ve come to realize that old is whatever age you are not yet. When I was in second grade, I could not imagine ever being as old as Teresa DiNapoli, my 17-year-old babysitter, who wore eye make-up (quite a lot, in fact) and went on dates and sneaked out to the backyard to smoke Parliaments while I watched cartoons. And then, all of a sudden, I was 17 (alas, both mascara-less and dateless – but I did sneak cigarettes). And 17 was no longer old.

In college, I thought 30 was old. I mean really old. Settled, boring, embarrassingly unhip. And then I was 30. And I wasn’t boring (I thought). But oh those 40 year olds – how ossified they were. And, of course 60 was absolutely ancient and absolutely unimaginable. Sixty-five was when, weathered and beaten down, creaky, crabby (or, alternately, sweet and grandmotherly) you spent your days complaining about ailments, tending violets and baking cookies.

Yeah, yeah, Bernie mounted the most energetic campaign possibly in the history of campaigning at age 74. And Grandma Moses didn’t start painting seriously until she was 78. And sure, Ruth Bader Ginsburg is rocking it on the bench at 83. But whenever we hear about active, engaged, interesting people who are 70 or 80 or older, they are presented as the exceptions that prove the rule. The rule, as we all know, is that old people are creaky, crabby creatures who totter around (if they’re lucky), eat mushy food and hold up the line at the grocery store by writing checks. Checks.

Regardless of the millions of role models out there who disprove the “old and in the way” mentality of the not-quite-as-old, regardless of our own experiences through life which prove that what we thought was old turns out not to be (when we ourselves get to that age), the stereotypes persist.

That’s why I loved loved loved this video in which the young come face to face with their ageism and emerge much wiser. It is very much worth a look. So please do.