gleamed from the hot grill this evening:

i don't know whether i want my parents to grow old or to die while they possess all of their facilities. the old folks were out in spades tonight, in all of their glory no less. on the way in, i waited for an elderly woman to exit, yelling to her companions, "i don't know if this is a step or not." (though she stared at it intensely, she couldn't tell that it wasn't, in fact, a step.)

on line, they were combative and argumentative with the staff: they knew it all. when you were a teen, your parents invariably informed you that, when you grew up, you'd realize that you didn't really know anything. so when does that theory reverse itself. my postulate: when you grow old, you realize that you know everything.

the gentleman in front of me had more hair in his ears than i have on my head...now, listen, about physical ailments, there's nothing one can do but feel sorry for the person. for the bullheadedness and the lack of attention to hygiene (and don't get me started on the middle-age women who fart in public places without SHAME), they deserve our ire because they are UNREPENTANT. i don't want to see either of my parents devolve into this. this is a selfish view, naturally, and it doesn't take into account what they want (though i get the feeling my father would rather be dead than to have any one of us take care of him). but still, it's a difficult thing to face, especially when some of the signs re already there. (yes, with my birthday in less than two weeks, age is my current obsession.)