The Port Holes to Their Future

(Read yesterday's post Like Two ships first)

They just know. I don't know how they do it. I have put myself in their place, taken myself back decades to when I was young like them and have tried to remember if I did it, too. My long-term memory is fine; it's my short-term that's get me in trouble--"What? I missed an Ebay bid at 3:00 and you reminded me at 2:30? Oh, shoot! I really wanted that chamber pot for my outhouse."

Where was I?  What was I talking about? Was it "pot?" No, that's not it. I don't smoke pot. I ate it in a cookie once, though, and that didn't turn out well. Where was I? Oh, I remember now. I want to know how some young folks can tell that a person is old (and someone to avoid) without actually looking at them? How did that young man on Main Street pass by me and not see me? So I went back in time to when I was young, and with my excellent recall from my youth I can say without a doubt that Yes, it's possible to discern many things through our peripheral vision. Back when I was young when I had peripheral vision, I did it all of the time. But I didn't use the outer edges of my vision to avoid just the elderly. Oh, no. I avoided a lot of people for many reasons, but I don't remember why now. No, really I don't. Okay, I do, but I'm not telling.

So why do some members of the younger generations "pretend" they don't see us older folks? My ninety-five-year-old mother-in-law says old people are invisible and ignored, but I never listen to her. We are not invisible; they know we are here. I believe when we lose our youth, vitality, sex appeal, and what our society deems "cool" we lose the interest of those following behind us who place an enormous amount of value on exterior beauty.

But here's the real reason why they look away from us. We are the port holes to their future. By avoiding us, they are avoiding their destiny. In a blink of an eye, they will be us. The young man who passed me--the only other living soul in downtown Franklin--without acknowledging me will, day after tomorrow or so it will seem, spot an attractive young woman on a Main Street somewhere in his elderly travels, walking toward him. He will smile and say, "Hel...lo?"

"Oh, I'm sorry sir," she will say, without even looking at him. "I didn't see you."