Age Robs Us of Our Filter
Age Robs Us of Our Filter
Did I Just Say That Out Loud?
Have you ever noticed when people reach a certain age their filters dissolve? When Dad was in his 70’s, I dreaded taking him out in public because he said whatever came to his mind. Once when a waitress brought the receipt for two slices of pie, he blurted out, “I didn’t want the whole pie. This is highway robbery.” The young waitress just stood there unsure how to react. I made a joke about it and thanked her for her kindness. When Dad left no tip because he felt it must have been included in the price, my husband lagged behind and left additional money on the table.
Dad wasn’t a mean man; he just didn’t understand inflation, couldn’t reconcile the changes of society, and had no interest in being politically correct. I heard him ask my daughter why she had a ring in her nose like a cow, the granddaughters if they needed money to buy some pants without holes in them and casually questioned if I was gaining weight. None of us explained that his questions were inappropriate, instead, we just loved on him.
One of my favorite poems is titled Warning. When I discovered it as a young lady, the words were freeing. I hung it above my desk as a reminder that someday I could say what I thought without being restrained by societal expectations.
Warning
When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people’s gardens
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So, people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old and start to wear purple.
By Jenny Joseph
There was a time that I never would have worn purple - too flashy, too ostentatious. Now I look in my closet and see blouses with orchids, lilies, and lilacs. They snuck into my wardrobe when I wasn’t looking. I even own a magenta dress. Age is creeping up on me and coloring my world with shades of purple. I suppose a purple hat is in my future.
Because we are spending time with mostly mature adults, I have noticed that the elderly tend to censor themselves less and in fact, notice they find humor when they can surprise a listener. Recently, my husband and I were standing in line at a Cinco de Mayo party at a 55+ resort. When a man welcomed a female friend and allowed her to cut in front of us, we assured him it was no problem. He introduced her and added, “She used to be a cougar but now she is a mountain lion.” When we looked confused, he explained, “She lies about her age and mounts anything she can.”
It seems with age everyone’s filter fades.