I was once told by an older friend, that you know that you are getting old when you become invisible. I didn’t at that time grasp this idea–after all I was in the prime of my life and becoming old seemed way down the line.
However now that I am nearer my exit than entry, various examples of the idea are regularly coming home to roost which confirm there is some truth in this statement. I am regularly reminded of my position in the ageing trajectory.
In a restaurant, for example, in the past I would have commanded a prompt and efficient service, Now I sit there, completely ignored while younger people around me are served instantly.
I was so fed up about this, that only the other day, I felt like resorting to standing on a chair with a megaphone to my mouth and shouting ‘Hello, I am here,’ across the restaurant. Not that my plea could have been heard above the noise (which they call music).That is another ageism issue to talk about later.
Eventually someone came to my table and apologised for not seeing me! Now, I am not exactly small at 6ft 3inches and 210 pounds. My order was taken in a rather off-hand manner, but, thirty minutes later I was still waiting to receive my order and the time to give my next treatment was ticking ever closer. ‘Excuse me,’ I said to one of the staff, ‘any news about my order?’ She rushed off to the kitchen, only to come back to say that they forgotten to process my order. This is restaurant speak, ‘I forgot to place your order’. I left hungry, to treat my next patient.
Another observation on the same theme concerns of being too visible. These days, when I get on a bus, the driver often lowers it for easier access. This is all well and good for those who are infirm. But there I was the other day, standing at the bus stop, and feeling pumped up after a ninety minute heavy–duty session at the gym, only to hear the hiss of the hydraulics as the bus was lowered for me.
It doesn’t end there. There were no vacant seats left so I stood. No problem at all. At this point two people stood to offer me their seats, and, to make matters worse, they were in their later years like me! I politely declined.
The same happens on the underground and trains these days. As soon as I enter, a rush of people of all ages offer me their seats. This is all very nice and reinforces my faith in humanity, but it does nothing for my self-esteem.
I have learned from various lectures I have attended that people can detect an excess or lack of certain pheromones as we age, particularly of the opposite sex. Apparently this induces feelings of nurture.
I hope these experiences are common amongst my age group and that I am not isolated in my despair.
I hear that eating copious amounts of celery can balance the pheromone issue out, so you will have no trouble guessing the focus of my new dietary regime.
My Best Wishes
Tony Porter
However now that I am nearer my exit than entry, various examples of the idea are regularly coming home to roost which confirm there is some truth in this statement. I am regularly reminded of my position in the ageing trajectory.
In a restaurant, for example, in the past I would have commanded a prompt and efficient service, Now I sit there, completely ignored while younger people around me are served instantly.
I was so fed up about this, that only the other day, I felt like resorting to standing on a chair with a megaphone to my mouth and shouting ‘Hello, I am here,’ across the restaurant. Not that my plea could have been heard above the noise (which they call music).That is another ageism issue to talk about later.
Eventually someone came to my table and apologised for not seeing me! Now, I am not exactly small at 6ft 3inches and 210 pounds. My order was taken in a rather off-hand manner, but, thirty minutes later I was still waiting to receive my order and the time to give my next treatment was ticking ever closer. ‘Excuse me,’ I said to one of the staff, ‘any news about my order?’ She rushed off to the kitchen, only to come back to say that they forgotten to process my order. This is restaurant speak, ‘I forgot to place your order’. I left hungry, to treat my next patient.
Another observation on the same theme concerns of being too visible. These days, when I get on a bus, the driver often lowers it for easier access. This is all well and good for those who are infirm. But there I was the other day, standing at the bus stop, and feeling pumped up after a ninety minute heavy–duty session at the gym, only to hear the hiss of the hydraulics as the bus was lowered for me.
It doesn’t end there. There were no vacant seats left so I stood. No problem at all. At this point two people stood to offer me their seats, and, to make matters worse, they were in their later years like me! I politely declined.
The same happens on the underground and trains these days. As soon as I enter, a rush of people of all ages offer me their seats. This is all very nice and reinforces my faith in humanity, but it does nothing for my self-esteem.
I have learned from various lectures I have attended that people can detect an excess or lack of certain pheromones as we age, particularly of the opposite sex. Apparently this induces feelings of nurture.
I hope these experiences are common amongst my age group and that I am not isolated in my despair.
I hear that eating copious amounts of celery can balance the pheromone issue out, so you will have no trouble guessing the focus of my new dietary regime.
My Best Wishes
Tony Porter
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