I've decided I'm going to be eccentric when I'm old. I'm going to wander around in baggy, mismatched clothes, wear sandals with long socks and mutter to myself as I walk down the street. No young person will escape my disapproving gaze or querulous demands that they get a job, smarten themselves up and pay me the respect due to someone on the point of death. I will tell them tedious, rambling stories about how much tougher things were when I was their age.
We lose much as we age; teeth, bladder control, sexual function, friends, memory its only fitting that there should be a few things reserved to us by inalienable right. The most important of these things is the right to be as annoying to the young as is humanly possible. I, for one, plan to take full advantage. After a lifetime of pleasing no one but myself I will suddenly discover the urge to lecture random youth on the need for community values and services to others, by which I mean me. I will apply for every benefit the government in its wisdom doles out to those close to death and some of them I will get twice.
It's all about me of course, it always is. Two million years of evolution, thousands of years of toil, achievements artistic, political and scientific, all these have culminated in me. The fact that the human race is still off doing all these things is simply evidence that we don't know when to stop.
As I spiral towards the grave I will create a vortex which will dizzy and outrage those who surround me. I will tell war stories (I have never been in a war but don't think that will stop me), flirt with eighteen year old girls and tell shaven headed youths to get a haircut. In short I will be unbearable. I will also eat a lot of waffles. With maple syrup. I will be a waffle fueled bitching machine. I might dye my hair as well, although judging by my current rate of hair loss possibly dying my scalp would be a better option. It is also possible that gaol time will be part of my retirement plan. I intend to acquire a serious drug habit as well (I think you can get them on ebay now) just to pass the time you understand. Some people may be shocked at that but which would you prefer? An obituary that says "died of cholesterol poisoning and heart failure" or one that reads "cut down in the cross fire of a drug war at a crack house". At least that way someone might actually come to my funeral even if it is only police looking to see who else turns up.
Yes, my old age is going to be pretty wild. Except for the sandals and socks. That may take a little getting used to.