The Old Age Gang

When will I get "old"? Is there a line I cross without knowing it, only to look around later at a new country with old inhabitants? What are the hallmarks and identifiers of old age?

We all have images of what "old age" is like. In our minds we think of "old age" as a special group of people with common qualities. They have their own group. They associate with each other. They eat, drink, walk, communicate and share tastes with their own kind. By thinking of them as a group, we imagine group boundaries. We imagine ourselves outside those boundaries, as NOT a member of their group. We do this to distance ourselves from "them".

We know, of course, that one day.... but not now. Not yet. Whatever "old" quality I find in the mirror, I deny that it is a defining characteristic. I have not yet joined the group.

Using Facebook or Twitter

I can see that I no longer belong to the "knowers", those of us who know things and understand them and thus are "in". I thought that I would always be one, and that getting old would not suddenly make me become stupid or out of touch. Short, that is, of strokes and Alzheimer's.

I don't get it. Why do people put comments on Facebook or Twitter about minor, uninteresting aspects of their daily lives? Why would they think anyone would care or be surprised to find they are "looking forward to the weekend" or "buying tomatoes at the grocery"? Clearly they are not discussing ideas, and equally clearly they are not describing the events or thoughts that might allow a degree of understanding or support or intimacy. They don't mention the fights they are having with their partner; they don't mention what the doctor found out during the exam. It's cabbages or lunch time or the current tv program.

I am coming to the conclusion that these media are not for the exchange of personal information or for better contact with friends or loved ones. Facebook and Twitter seem to be the container for the noises the tribe or pack make to stay in earshot of each other. The message is not really about the cookout, but really "I'm here, right here", and the rest of the tribe moves about their little clearing feeling reassured. And it's nice, I suppose, to think that others might care that this is true.

Sometimes I wonder if the twittering noises passed up and down our electronic synapses are the beginnings of a group consciousness, a mass mind struggling to become awake, like the random thoughts produced by our brains on the edge of consciousness. Maybe we're on the way to becoming a hive mind. If so, you'll be glad to know I just finished wastering the plants.

The Hope Addiction

We all know that the world we live in is largely fictional Behind the abstractions we are fed by politicians and corporate sales, there is very little of substance. We follow after the rainbows that are only painted on curtains, and like the Wonderful Wizard of Oz, there is nothing behind the curtain. We buy the sizzle, not the steak, the zoooooom, not the car. We rarely think of what these dreams cost us in actuality.

The stock market is a good example of a fictional world. Stocks go up and they go down, their prices mostly based on what people think other people are going to think tomorrow. People don't invest in companies because of their value, but rather because of their value in the eyes of others. The stock market is a large and more serious version of Las Vegas. People hope to become rich without effort or skill, purely because they are lucky and buy a stock that is going up and then sell it before it goes down. They tell themselves that this is because they are clever or knowledgeable, but luck is really the only factor. What they are buying with each stock purchase or sale is hope, hope for a big break, some life-changing event.

An even better example is a gambling casino. We all know the mathematics of gambling: the casinos make more than they lose, and that money comes from the gamblers. Many of the most persistent gamblers are those who can least afford it, the hard-working poor. Who can blame them for wanting to win a bunch of money? In their hearts they know that most of the people in the casino will lose some or a lot of their money, but they cling to the hope that they are "special", "lucky", "have a system", and thus will win. Even when they win they don't take their winnings home. They gamble some more. The money is not the object; the chance of winning “big” is.

Gambling is not about winning. Gambling is about the hope of winning. Working people, stuck in low-paying jobs, bills coming due, kids needing things, may see no hope in their day-to-day life of finding a way to manage. However, the casino offers them the chance, no matter how small, that a “Good Thing” can happen and all the problems can be solved. The gambler would rather lose a little money and keep the hope alive that something can change. The hope is all they have to escape despair.

Religions sell two basic things: They offer the rules for living, and they offer the hope of some after-life reward. People pay lip service to the importance of religious rules, although they rarely live by them. What keeps the horse moving forward is the carrot on the stick. What matter that the reward is never achieved or witnessed? that Heaven is never visited or photographed? The hope for Heaven is what matters, just as the hope for winning matters more than money won.

Hope keeps us waiting, rarely patiently, and keeps us tolerating ways of life that would quickly be abandoned were it not for hope. What would life without hope be like? While that may sound frightening, the thought of waiting indefinitely in misery for a promise that will almost certainly not be kept should be more so. Without hope, we would have to live in the here-and-now. We would have to pay attention now to what we do and how we do it. We would have to make each moment pay. We would ask the real price of things more often. We could still have goals and hope to attain them, but not by magic or without effort. We wouldn't wait to start having a life for Santa Claus to come.