If ya wanna live, ya gotta get old.

(Reading time 10 minutes)

If ya wanna live,

ya gotta get old.

My mother-in-law came from Ireland, she did,

Sang songs and told stories, she learned as a kid.

One quote I remember, which she often retold,

“If you wanna live, then you’ve gotta get old.”


Now “Old ain’t for sissies”, it takes real endurance,

Even with cash now, ya can’t get insurance.

When ya least expect it, yer head won’t work right,

Some body parts don’t know, if it’s day or it’s night.


When old timers retire, it’s a juncture in life,

Where we learn new lifestyles, both husband and wife.

A retirement home, takes some planning alright,

Moving old furniture, is like squeezing a quart in a pint.


Us fellers ain’t handsome no more, but it don’t make no matter,

We just congregate, swap tales, sit ‘n chatter.

When we were young, we’d hang on the corner,

And ogle young gals, but now it’s a yawner.


When a young gal walked by, who was well endowed,

We’d hoot ‘n whistle, sometimes good ‘n loud.

But at our old age, it’s all over and we know,

Most of us can’t get up, enough whistling wind to blow.


When ya get to old age, something always needs patchin’,

Places get itchy, where it’s damned awkward scratchin’.

Just grinnin’ and bearin’ it, won’t make it that easy,

And if ya admire them young gals, folks sez that yer sleazy.


Just hangin’ out now, is what it’s all about,

Discussin’ our prostates, bum hips and gout.

Most have arthritis, and some a weak heart,

So we just sit and talk, and try to sound smart.


Then yer innards get sluggish, us old timers all know,

And ya need some damn potion, that’ll make you go,

Them pills work big time, bright and early at seven,

But they’re a mess for us guys, who don’t wake up ‘til eleven.


For older ladies as always, it’s a whole different story,

Fancy dresses, paper underpants, and a depilatory.

They clean up so nice, you can hardly tell,

Whether they’re poor as a mouse, or a rich southern Belle.


Ladies have always, had that special advantage,

They can get painted and quaffed, so you can’t tell their age.

When passion inspires women, all systems are go,

They’ve got nothing to get ready, like some old men I know.


But it’s the future of our world, that deserves our concern,

We’ve been up to bat, it’s now the young folk’s turn.

New technology is coming at us, too fast to comprehend,

It’s for the future generation, and we’re at the rear end.


I often times wonder, how much we can learn.

 Learning what I don’t know, is my biggest concern.

They say advances, since the days of old time pioneers,

Will pale in comparison, to just the next ten years.


A hundred years ago, covered wagons were the only way,

Folks traveled across country, with no paved highway.

In but a little over 60 years later, it was then opportune,

To fire off a rocket ship, and fly men to the moon.


I remember wind up Victrolas, and cat’s whisker radio sets,

It’s now rockets, computers, and high-flying jets.

The latest term they use, is “exponential gain”,

Just trying to spell such words, taxes my brain.


Electronic gadgets, have their own funny jargon,

Can’t tell if you’re snookered, or getting a bargain.

At the age that I can afford, these fancy things,

I even forget what to push, when the telephone rings.


My friends convinced me, to get in step with the times,

Get a computer for e-mail, or typing up rhymes.

So I bought one I did, a laptop high tech’er,

Best thing I found so far, is the built-in spell checker.


At this point in time, a mind can’t comprehend,

What science will give us, in this world without end.

Considering the advances, in the last hundred years,

Will history record our generation, as old time pioneers?


At our late age, all we can do, is observe what’s ahead,

And hope the next generation, is careful where they tread.

 Our future from here, the next generation creates,

Bad choices could render this earth, a planet of the apes.


My grandmother often spoke, of going to heaven she did,

Said you’ve only one soul, be careful not to lose it, God forbid.

Heaven is the retirement center, with streets gold and bright,

I hope I’ll see you there, for happy days and peace at night.