The Modern Man: Crazy 'ol coot

As I staggered into the local pool the other day I had three days beard and unwashed hair. I handed my punch pass to the 17 year old girl behind the counter and she said the following without fun or frivolity:

"No offense, but are you a senior rate?"

Needless to say, the next 40 minutes were spent trying to come up with some sort of jazzy reply (you mean the señor rate, Senior in high school?) until I realized that I just used Jazzy in a sentence, which is dating me already. Plus, you really can't THINK and SWIM at the same time or you end up sinking to the bottom of the pool.

After I swam back to the surface, much to the relief of the life guards, I finished my swim, melancholy splishing and splashing with my friend the black line. Before I finished, as I poked my head up for air, I thought I heard one life guard say, "Keep an eye on the old man," but it could have been, "Boy it's hot, I need a fan." At this point, my brain was so devastated, my heart so broken, my self-esteem quaking like green jello, I realized a snappy (old man term) reply didn't matter. I finished my joyless swim and I shuffled home with my tail between my legs, looking around corners for Death and checking to see if there were any stores that sold canes. Each phone call that came that afternoon was a nerve wracking experience, as I held my breath figuring that AARP (Motto: We help you because you've probably lost your mind) had come to find me.

But then I thought, being a senior isn't that bad, even if I'm only 40. I can get the early bird special, discounts at most stores, and one of those little scooters to get me around the house. Plus, most of my relatives have gone relatively crazy with old age, which gives one a lot of leeway in what one can get away with. I mean, seniors can get away with saying anything and have any opinion without doing any research or fact finding, kind of like Dick Cheney, Ann Coulter, or Fox News. So I'm turning a negative into a positive and have developed some Crazy 'ol Cootisms (TM)that I will begin using immediately with impunity. I shall shout them with pride, because there is really no consequences when you're an 'ol coot. I would apologize for my sexist comments, but as an old coot, I don't have to.

1) If I were president, I'd pass a law that would allow any citizen to give an atomic wedgie to ANYONE showing their underwear on purpose, unless they are wearing appropriateVictoria Secret of course.
2) Spandex shall not be worn by anyone whose pants waistline is more than 6 inches greater than their pants length.
3) Peaking at cleavage shall no longer be considered as dangerous as looking at the sun.
4) If you can't go to a high quality eating establishment and remove your pants, then what fun is life?
5) The next time someone asks me what university or college I went to with the sole purpose of trumping my school with something like Duke or MIT, I shall say I graduated from Viagra University. When they realize I didn't say Niagara university and tell me that doesn't exist, I shall do a variation of #4 on the list to show them my diploma.

See, being a senior isn't so bad. Now if I could only remember what I just said.