Friday, July 21, 2017

I Reintroduce The Mantra of the Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute

When I was younger, I thought people in their 60’s were totally cool with the concept of getting older. I always used to think that people who were 66 years old were perfectly happy to be 66 years old.  

They were into being 66 years old.

They were good at being 66 years old.

They felt they'd finally achieved the age they were always supposed to be. When they'd be shaving in the morning and looked in the mirror and saw Larry King on his worst day, they'd point at what looked like Larry King on his worst day, give a wry smile, and make that satisfied click-click sound people make with their tongues at the side of the mouth when they’re pleased with themselves and pleased with the world.

"Yep," they'd say "that's me!  I sure do look my age, which is great!  I'm worn out, wrinkled, bald, and with absolutely no chance of attracting anything less than the scurviest of women on the planet!  

It's all as it should be."

Then they'd go out of the bathroom into the bedroom and masturbate to Judi Dench.

But none of that is true!  Inside we all remain 40 forever.

Ever see a very old couple ---say 80-90 years old --- sitting together at dinner at a restaurant? You probably think "my, that's cute!"  

Trust me, it's not cute!

The old boy is thinking "who the hell is this prune Danish I'm sitting next to? And why isn't the hot young waitress groping me under the table every time she brings the cheese rolls?"

Why's he think this way?  Because inside he's 40.  Just like all the rest of us. 

And the wife? 

She wants to fuck George Clooney.

I realize I am way closer to being 80 years old than I am to being 40. 


It is meant for those for who feel the road ahead is suddenly all in the rear view mirror, who have reached the age they always thought was exclusively reserved for people’s parents, and who are fully eligible for the Senior Special at IHOP, but frankly I’d stick with the pancakes.

Chant it, meditate upon it, burn incense in its honor, but for god’s sake, don’t burn the blog down, the insurance has lapsed!  

We can talk later about royalties.

Mantra of the  
Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute

We are the Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute!
Incipient Baby Boomer Geezers.

Inside we are 40!  No, not 60 or more!
Our enemies: the mirror, the camera, your 'who gives a fuck's' galore!
We like to think we’re cool, we’d like to think we rock,
But demographically we’re poison, just pigeon-feeder stock!
We are the Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute!
Incipient Baby Boomer Geezers.
Today we sprout hair in all the wrong places,
But where we so want it, only wide open spaces!
Once we trusted no one over 30, it’s true,
Today we know no one under, no gentile, no Jew!

We are the Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute!
Incipient Baby Boomer Geezers.

A bit of the bubbly means Alka-Seltzer,
Hard drugs --- Viagra, whadya expect, sir?
Once cuddly and cute, hip, happening, and cool,
now avuncular, respected, well-furrowed, mature.

We are the Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute!
Incipient Baby Boomer Geezers.

We are Generation Ex-Lax, not X.
We are Generation Why? not Y.
Hug one of us today!
Preferably me.



Russell Gayer said...

This might be your best post since you did that piece on why you prefer Ex-lax over Ghirardelli.

Bruce Willis once said we all feel 26 inside. I like that number better than 40. We don't see ourselves the way the mirror does (that lyin' bastard). I do wish I had the energy and stamina I had thirty years ago, but I'm afraid it's not coming back.

You nailed it with the elderly couple at the restaurant analogy. I don't even want to know who Connie thinks is hot. Probably some young whippersnapper barely pushing forty with no beer gut and a seven-digit bank account.

Perry Block said...

I had a defective mirror too. I had to take it for repairs, but when it came back there was no change. In fact I looked even two weeks older than I did before. The only thing that's going to spare me from the fate of the elderly couple is that I'm going to be the elderly single without the couple. I'll still wonder why the young waitress isn't grabbing my legs, but there'll be nobody there wanting to fuck George Clooney. Gee, I feel sad for him too.

Unknown said...

Did someone say George Clooney?
The mirror is a fickle bitch so I've stop asking her, "Who's the fairest of them all?"

Perry Block said...

You are, Tracey! So there.