Getting Older Surely Must Have It’s Advantages  

     I had it driven home to me again today. Let me explain. I was in two different grocery stores (not at the same time) getting our weekly supply of stuff to eat. Of course that doesn’t preclude trips to these stores for odds and ends during the week, but I digress. When I shop I usually have a list that is made out so I only have to make one pass through the store and pick everything in sequence. Normally I’m moving at a speed that keeps the wheels of my cart smoking and people jumping out of my path. However, these Redmond stores are still somewhat new to me and newer still to Lorraine, the list maker. So I have to do a certain amount of backing and filling, pun not intended.

I do spend some time wandering around looking at the aisle signs and trying to find stuff. I’ve noticed that I have store clerks and sometimes complete strangers, usually younger ones, coming up to me with offers to help me do whatever I’m doing. They’re not sure what that is and obviously they don’t think I do either.

The bagging people are always asking if they can help me get my stuff to the car, like they’re afraid I might collapse on the premises. I’ve decided it’s the gray hair and the befuddled look that garners in the helpful attitude from younger people.

When I was approaching the front door of Fred Meyers there was a small boy approaching the same door from the opposite side. Behind him was his mother pushing a grocery filled cart and with a small girl hanging on to her skirt. The small boy triggered the door, then stood in the doorway and held up his hand stopping his mother and saying “Wait a minute, there’s an old man coming.” I didn’t know whether to laugh or clip him one on the ear. I ended up thanking him, smiling at his mother, who was trying not to be mortified, and went on my way.

A couple days ago I was in Walmart, walking down an aisle. I was behind a young couple. They were pushing a cart in which they had a young kid. He was maybe four or so. Way too big to be riding in a cart but that’s another subject. They and I were both headed toward the back of the store. They were moving a lot slower then I wanted to go and because of their girth were blocking the aisle so that I couldn’t get around without physically pushing them out of the way. The kid kept watching me and finally said, “There’s an old man following us.” He was not close enough to reach, so I just chuckled and shot off down a side aisle to find another route to my destination.

Having people act deferential and holding doors for me is okay as long as I keep it all in perspective and not get the idea that I am actually getting older and possibly less able to do things with the same dispatch as in the past.

This attitude is not usually hard to maintain, but it is sometimes harder than other times. An example: Last summer we met the kids at Maryhill State Park. This place is somewhat equidistant from each of the three domiciles, which makes it an easy place to meet for an afternoon of picnicking and togetherness.

We ate, sat around, and talked while watching the younger kids take the rafts out and paddle around. Late in the afternoon Shauna got the bright –- well maybe not real bright -- but at least an idea that she needed to take Lorraine and me out in the bigger raft. It sounded like fun, we’ll talk later about the aging process softening the brain, but some little flicker in the back of my brain told me to leave my wallet and cell phone in my backpack by the picnic table.

We carried the raft down to the shore, where we took off our shoes and awkwardly climbed in the raft. Shauna sat up against one end, Lorraine sat up against the other end, leaving me in the middle. When I sat down I found that my butt was about eight inches lower than my feet because of the softness of the raft bottom. Shauna handed me a paddle and even from my awkward position expected me to help propel this floating abomination by reaching over the pontoon/gunwale (pronounced gunnel), (look it up), which was even with my shoulder. Every time I paddled the tendency was to fall over on my back. My effectiveness at helping move the raft about was severely limited. I finally decided that to really help paddle I needed to be up on my knees.

To get there was harder than one would think. To start with there was nothing solid around me to help me change position. Added to that was the possibility of tipping the raft over if I made the wrong move. So I tried to get my feet under my butt (remember the butt being eight inches lower than my feet) so I could rock up on my knees. After a valiant struggle I finally got on my knees. But because of nothing solid to kneel on every time I paddled I tended to fall either forward into Lorraine or backward on Shauna. After some practice I got so I was actually adding some to the propulsion of the squishy floating airbag.

     We finally got back to the shore. There was no dock so shore was just toward land until the raft ground up on the rocks. Of course the lowest point on the raft was where my knees were trying to poke holes through the bottom of the thing. Shauna jumped out and hung onto the plastic waterbed trying to keep it as close as possible to the shore. Then came the tricky part. It was time for me to get out of the thing. Now on the face of it that doesn’t sound like a tricky thing to do. But I have two witnesses who will swear that it seemed to be an almost insurmountable project. Remember I started out on my knees which were trying to push the raft bottom through the rocky lake bed. I started by trying to get one leg over the side of the raft. This tipped me over into the bottom of the raft. Then I tried to get both legs over a pontoon so that Shauna could pull the rest of me over the same pontoon. I was flopping around in the raft trying to get a purchase on something to give me some leverage. Nothing worked.

I flopped and struggled. By this time I was getting all kinds of advice from my two raft mates only one of whom had tried successfully to do what I was trying to do. Beside that Shauna was laughing so hard she could hardly stand upright. Lorraine was equally hysterical. During this spectacle Sonia and Bruce had paddled up close to watch in detail what was transpiring before their eyes. They did not offer any advice, probably not wanting to shorten this entertainment. 

 In my flopping around I suddenly found myself out of the raft, on the opposite side from where I had been headed, and on my hands and knees in water deep enough to get me thoroughly soaked. Getting out of the raft had turned out to be very simple and happened in a flash. How did it work? I’ve no idea. I proceeded, with as much dignity as I could muster, to crawl on my hands and knees over the rocky lake bottom, until I reached dry land and found a sandy area where I could stand up without slicing my feet to pieces. As I was flopping around in the raft the thought came to me that “this has got to resemble a walrus trying to extricate itself from a wet bathing suit.” This whole episode would not have happened previous to my getting to this age.

Getting older does have advantages other than people wanting to help me carry out my groceries. As soon as I think of some I’ll let you know.

I would be glad to hear from any of you who want to comment on this.