esrosedotblog

THE GEEZER MARKET

I hope to take advantage of some of this stuff, eventually,

A Greying Population Spells Business Opportunities.

Right now it sounds like horseshit.

Good and well meaning horseshit but still.

Horseshit.

A lot of it is trivial.

Look at the video from the MIT AgeLab.

AgeLab. One of those mashed brands. Two caps, one word. Oh, Jobs what have you wrought.

Look at that age suit. She says it is for someone my age. I mean that us emulates someone in their 70s. The restrictions.

I tried all the things the suit seems to say I have trouble doing and I can tell you the suit is a lot older than me.

I suppose there will be a time when my kids will want to monitor my pill intake and when I turn on the goddam lights but I don't plan on reaching that any time soon. It is true that they have no idea what pills I take and so be it. The dependent become more dependent. If they know it all then I can forget it. No.

Do you note a hostile tone here?

You are right.

This kind of thing is so condescending as to be meaningless. These young whippersnappers have no idea what aging is like and they will not until the day it starts to happen to them, assuming they don't get the big A first and get silly.

They will find that life in the 70s is not a burden. That a lot of the things they want to do, we do not want to do anymore, and are glad to be rid of it.

And I can put my arms over my head full and touch my hands and so they can take those silly elastic bands off the suit.

What they need to know is that the Boomers who sat on their ass (them) and couched their way through life aren't savable. The ones who got wise to all this and started working out and eating right and quit the drugs are way ahead of the AgeLab. We are part of the new 70s.

There is my hero Jack Lallane drinking his "cocktail" probably at 80.

I am pre-Boomer. Just the right age. Not too old to have seen the handwriting on the wall about being in good health. Not old enough to be some new niche market for the hucksters.

Now I suppose, ironically, I will drop dead tomorrow and prove the point of the article somehow. But I will have cheated the business men who wanted to make a buck out of my geriatricality.

Fuck 'em all.

Labels: aging, gay life, MIT, technology