The advantages and disadvantages 
of senility

By W. A. Borst, Ph.D.

    Now that we have gotten over all the confusion of Y2K and the new millennium, it is time to reflect on one of the basic facts of life. No, I do not mean the birds and the bees. What I have in mind is more like owls and goats. I am talking about getting old. It is something that all of us have to consider no matter what our ages may be. 

    As a child I was in a hurry to grow up, to be mature and independent. I remember when I was eleven years old, I thought it would be great to live until the year 2000. That's before Stanley Kubrick made me realize that I had really meant 2001. Now that it has finally happened, I no longer relish my advanced maturity. I am what Jack Buck used to quip, "playing the back nine." And I was never any good at golf.

    This reflection on age and aging has several different components worthy of note. The first has to do with eating. Years ago, I could eat anything and work, sweat or worry off any unwanted calories. Now my tailor is on a retainer. When I go on a cruise, just knowing the midnight buffet is three decks away, can add another inch on my beltline. 

    And what are all these golden years I hear about? Does that mean gold in the teeth, or money in the bank? I think silver is a better choice. I mean silver hair, if one is lucky to have any of his hair left. Silver is also the color on my multi-vitamin bottle. 

    Pain is another constant of the aging process. At fifty, I stopped jogging, playing tennis and running up stairs three at a time. I sadly realized that I was at the stage when my body gave me more pain than pleasure. It was just too easy to get hurt. I was spending too much time at the local Walgreen's, waiting for my pain prescriptions to be filled. As the injuries piled up and my waistline expanded, I decided to hire my own personal trainer. Working out was great, but as Lizzie increased the pain level, I found that exercise only felt good because it stopped hurting when we stopped. The only pleasure my body gives me now, is when I am not in pain or exercising. I suspect that the next milestone will be that my only pleasure will come from my constant pain, in some sort of post-menopausal response to the ravages of age.

    The older I get the more equipment I need to get along. I seem to have more gadgets that plug in or insert for added vision, auditory reception, and the like. It takes ten minutes of each morning to, gather, clean, unplug, dewax, and buff my equipment. I feel like an "auto" mechanic.

    I used to have a great memory. I could recite the presidents in order and the years they served. I can still do that but I have trouble remembering which country they led. I would be lost without my daily calendar, that is, if I could find it. And keys? Why can I never find my keys? Do they have legs? I often go into rooms and forget why I went there. 
But then aging is not all that bad when one considers the alternative. If I were Chinese I would be revered and honored for my age and wisdom. Here, I am willing to settle for a warm bed, a nearby restroom and three full meals a day. I have all the time in the world to think about where I am and what I am doing.