I hate Cher.
I don’t hate her because she’s an Academy, Grammy and Emmy award-winner. I hate her because she’s old — and I pretty much hate the elderly.
Actually, no, I really don’t have a problem with Cher. If anything, I hope to see her new show in Las Vegas sometime this summer and would never admit in public that a remix of “Gypsys, Tramps & Thieves” is part of my workout playlist on my iPod. So no, I don’t hate Cher.
I also don’t hate the elderly, and I believe most people don’t hate the elderly, either. However, I do believe part of the reason the elderly aren’t hated is because it’s difficult to hate something that’s invisible. Although a small percentage of society might actually abhor the elderly, the percentage of society that disregards its seniors is inestimable. We forget they exist. We don’t know who they are. In a youth-obsessed society, it’s easy to ignore anyone old enough to remember why a 2000s recession doesn’t compare to a 1930s depression. Can we be blamed? It’s easy for a person to recognize that he or she is guilty of murder when he or she flees from police in a blood-soaked White Ford Bronco, but it’s rather difficult to identify the moment in which they become guilty of omission.
Simply put, few people are pushing old ladies down the stairs, but only because no one remembers where the old lady lives.
In a society saturated with naked magazine covers, starlet-obsessed blogs and blogs about naked magazine covers, is it any surprise that our seniors are being bulldozed so the Highway of Youth and Beauty may be constructed?
“We sincerely do apologize for the inconvenience, Mrs. McGillicuddy, and we understand that you’ve lived here for over 60 years. But eminent domain allows the information highway to cut through your garden, and neither Entertainment Weekly nor PerezHilton.com can be bothered to go around your house.”
Why is our society perpetually fascinated with eternal youth? Many of us with a Dorian Gray complex (i.e. those who search for the fountain of life — the cast of “Designing Women”) turn our noses up at anyone who correctly fulfills the AARP’s membership requirement of naming the best episode of Matlock (episode 78, for those keeping score at home). Considering that the elderly are occasionally treated with disrespect by some people, one feels prompted to ask: Is there a difference between judging someone according to his or her race and judging someone else according to his or her age? Saying that John McCain is older than Methuselah-or worse, Larry King-is considered fair game, while saying (inappropriate woman joke) about Hillary Clinton or (inappropriate black joke) about Barack Obama is grounds for getting one fired. Does John McCain have any control over his age any more than Hillary Clinton over her gender, or Barack Obama over his race?
My great-grandmother passed away last year at the age of I-don’t-remember. Like my grandmother, I also believe that the age of 90 is a good time to stop keeping track of one’s age. She was a remarkable woman with an incredible, sharp sense of humor (little of which was passed on to me, as evidenced by this column), and she visited many countries throughout her amazing lifetime. I consider myself fortunate to have had a close relationship with her, and I cherish the memories I have of her. At the same time, though, I’m ashamed to admit that I was the grandson who visited her whenever my schedule would permit. I most likely spent more time on YouTube last week than I spent visiting my great-grandmother in all of 2007. I realize I can’t rewind time (my flux capacitor is in the shop), but I can’t help but wonder what other relationships with elderly friends and family members I’ve ignored simply because I was too busy doing other stuff.
Are potential friendships, relationships, employments or other opportunities overlooked with an older individual simply because he or she is old enough to remember the “Cougar” in John Mellencamp? Or old enough to even remember John Mellencamp? Are the talents and brilliance of older artists, musicians, actors, politicians and others ignored simply because they’re two or three or seven times older than we are?
Although I don’t plan on voting for John McCain, I recognize that my past jokes about his age (“He’s so old that he remembers when Mr. Clean had an afro”) make me guilty of assuming his age brings senility instead of experience. Our society might be awash with all things youth-oriented, but there’s no reason we can’t respect our seniors for the experience they have over us. I know if anyone has a long way to go, it’s myself.
I think maybe I’ll start by going to Las Vegas and seeing Cher.
