No Shoes, No Filter, No Problem!

 

I pulled a couple of boxes of photos down from my closet the other day. These photographs were mostly black and white relics made with a camera and film that was dropped off at the drug store for developing.  How do I explain a negative to a Gen Z’er? 

As I went through these old pictures, I couldn’t help but think that I looked different - in a good way. Maybe the  styling gel in my hair made me look cool. And it’s obvious that what I wore was heavily influenced by GQ magazine.  For example, the color of my belt had to match my loafers.  My jeans were creased and I tucked in my shirttail. The dress shirts had to be laundered and starched. Well, that limo left the curb several years ago, and quite honestly, I don’t care. Now I’ll put on jeans right out of the dryer. I buy permanent press shirts. If my belt doesn’t match my shoes, no big deal, I’ll just pull my shirttail out. This is one benefit of aging that no one talks about - you develop an I don’t give a damn attitude about lots of things.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not walking around in Bermuda shorts and wearing black socks with sandals. Not yet, anyway.  But as we get older, function replaces form, and that’s OK with me. For example, If you look in my closet, you’ll find one pair of lace up dress shoes that I only wear to funerals. However, I do have three pair of New Balance sneakers. I’m aware that some people call them old man shoes; however, New Balance is the brand the podiatrist recommended because my orthotics properly fit in them. As a result, my plantar fasciitis is much better.  Do you see? Function over form. It’s kinda nice to have reached that point in your life. 

Another benefit of getting older is that your filter vanishes.  Most seniors will tell it like it is to anyone that will listen.  Furthermore,  everyone gives you a Run-Your-Mouth-For-Free-Card. Most anything you say, no matter how inappropriate, is excused because of age.  We have one such woman in our church, Doris, a spry 97 year-old. One of her favorite sayings is, “If you don’t want the truth, don’t ask me.” Of course, it’s the truth as she sees it. Nothing is off limits for Doris - politics, religion, or even sex.  Once, I was marveling  about how good she looked for her age, she said, “Yeah, but I get up every morning, eyeball the mirror before I put on my make up and say, ‘My Lord, woman you look like crap.” (That’s not exactly what she said, but there may be kids reading this article). Doris’ filter is long gone, and she doesn’t give a whit. 

   

Doris reminds me of my mother, who had no filter either.  One of her worst gaffes occurred when my wife and I took her to the hospital for an outpatient surgical procedure. The three of us arrived bleary-eyed at 5 AM, and as we sat half asleep in the waiting room, a woman walked in, registered, and sat down across from us. In a few moments someone else shuffled through the automatic door. At first, I mistook him for a homeless person. He was unshaven and had a shock of gray hair that hadn’t seen a comb. It reminded me of a cartoon character who had stuck his finger in an electric socket. His look was completed with a pair of pajama bottoms, house shoes, and an old beat-up top coat.   Mom took one glance at him, then turned to us and said loudly (because she wasn’t wearing her hearing aids), “How’d you like to wake up to that every morning?”

Everyone in the waiting room looked up and stared at us, including the lady who just checked in. Then to my horror, the subject of Mom’s commentary walked past us and sat down beside her; obviously, he was her husband. Of course, Mother was oblivious to the sequence of events  because she’s filterless. On the other hand, we were humiliated.  

But I will admit, that was one way to get into the exam room quickly.