The Old Man I Intend To Be

Going to wear a tie, something thin and grey. Cardigans or charcoal sport coats. Beret in cold weather.

Or I could just get really sunburnt and wear clothes the color of sherbert. Haven’t decided yet.

I’ll either go for a buzz cut if balding and white haired, or long, lank and shiny if not. Might go for a large moustache with a van dyke. Wireless glasses.

I carry a walking stick, but not use a walking stick. I will threaten my enemies with it and use it to point out things of beauty to undeserving little kids. Deserving kids will get candy. All kids get to hear me tell filthy jokes that may go over their heads.

I will develop a sensible appreciation of women with big bottoms. Heh.

I will shake my fist at things, or at cops behind their back. I will especially shake my fist at statues and churches. I will swear at paintings in public galleries.

I’ll curse modern gadgets, unless they amuse me. Then I’ll tinker with ‘em until they’re broken, then put ‘em in a drawer filled with old door knob and fuses.

Somewhere between now and then I’ll try and earn a medal of some sort. I’ll wear this under my sweater.

I’ll drink schnapps. Feed hamburger to little dogs. Walk as a hobby.

I’ll talk openly about assassinating public figures. When my then grown kids try to shush me, this is what I’ll say:

“Goddammit, I’ve been sushed, and sushed one time too many. I AM OLD, GODDAMMIT. If you think I’m going to stand here and take it, then, well, you can go back to your fancy schmantzy schmantz computer world thing and piss up a GODDAMN ROPE. Gimmee that goddamn phone, I’ll gonna call that pretty boy Mayor and tell him he’s full of BEANS. And I want a goddamn sloppy joe for lunch. What’s on TV? I’m going for a walk. I’m going to go shake my fist at stuff.”

I’m actually not that far off.

(Note: The old man pictured is the philosopher Leszek Kolakowski. Not me.)