Oldster Fashion NO NO's

Most post mid-life mugs like myself would like to stay as healthy, young, and contemporarily relevant for as long as possible despite our advancing age. The problem is of course that the wrinkles, graying follicles, and the fact that we think younger people do everything WRONG exposes our true chronological age. Sure we’re never gonna’ be young again so it’s probably time to find a hobby like grave digging or worm farming which can be constructively applied before we put our lame ‘HurryCanes’ down for the final time.

So I’m tolerant of all kinds of old folks and their weirdo habits to hang on to youth (no judgment, just an honest observation) because how fun would it be to stand in line at the DMV if every dried prune dressed and behaved just like me? Hey just because my hair has DePARTED faster than Moses did to the Red Sea doesn’t mean I have become a card-carrying AARP geezer-believer yet. I understand the primal urge to feel like your soft tail still belongs on a 6 speed Harley even though these days as a REAL fat boy you’ve never piloted anything more powerful than a 2 speed massage recliner. 

That’s why I might give the geezers a pass with the haughty Van Dyke beards encircling their ‘Pepto-portals’  as a reminder of where to target food instead of their feet. I try too to ignore ripe-type seniors wearing ridiculous designer slim-fit jeans over cowboy boots scootin’ boogies, or whatever else is trapped in their  brightly-colored bandanas. Occasionally, despite an involuntary cringe, I’ll even choke down that tan-in-a-can golden oldie who sports a spread eagled collared shirt, flaunting his flossy fur and an oversized pierced cauliflower ear. 

Despite all that tolerance and my considerable effort to turn a varicose-veined pink-cheek to oldsters trying to delay the inevitable, society must help me put an absolute stop to the ultimate dried-up dude fashion faux pas. No more ignoring this festering and flagrant abuse by the creaky who refuse to act their own age and face the final swan song stage of yawing youth and meet their musty destiny with gusto and dignity . We must stand together to clip, cut, and blow - don’t pass GO, until the aged and gray cleave off that HATED, greasy-weaved foot-long pony today and donate it to balding and less fortunate hairless RATS!