How Old Has This Recession Made Me Look?

Lately banks are in the news. So are seniors. Put the two together and you get this scene of me approaching my community bank the other day juggling some files under my arms. As I do, this sweet little old lady offers to help me at the door. Wait a minute. Until recently, I was the one helping them....! Exactly how old has this recession made me look....?

Some seniors take umbrage at what they consider being patronized at doorways and elevators by the young. But this lady is no youngster. Has to be 85 if she's a day. Exactly how old do I look!

Frankly, though, I don't mind being attended by others. It's about time. Age should have at least a few privileges. God know it offers little else.

Makes me think of all the wild dogs and horses who, anthropologically speaking, gradually let mankind domesticate them. That's right, they let us do it. I mean what's the advantage of running around all your life scrounging for an existence? Especially when you can get all your food, housing and grooming for free?

Armed with this cosmic thought, I accept the sweet little old lady's assistance at the door and smile, "Thank you, Mam."
"God bless you, sir" she answers back.
That's when I hesitate. Is she helping me or is she bidding me some kind of celestial farewell?

Exactly how old do I look? Has the stress done more to my face than even I notice? Is that haunted look in my eyes even more haunted? The stoop to my shoulders even more stooped?

Just then I see my bank's president drive up to his reserved spot in his champagne-toned Jaguar. He steps out resplendent as always in his dark three-piece-suit. There's a grin on his face and a skip to his step. Gee, he does look better than me. The sweet little old lady sees no need to help him.

As he hurries past us, it occurs to me why shouldn't he look better? The sweet little old lady and I are paying for his salary. And his bank. And his Jaguar. What a great country. What a great time to be alive. What a great day when 85-year-old ladies open doors and 35-year-old bankers drive Jaguars.