Episode 25: Babies and old people. Two peas in a very smelly pod.

Let me first start out by saying that I love old people. I think they are great. They are our country's greatest natural resource and I think we can all learn a lifetime of knowledge from them. If given the choice of having dinner with a random 25-year-old or a random 85-year-old, I would pick the 85-year-old almost every time.  (The one exception to this rule is Russian women. I am not sure that they have hearts. Then again, growing up in Soviet Russia probably wasn't all that easy so I'll give them a pass).

The reason that I bring this up is that I have been noticing lately, since I have been staying home with the baby, that I have been keeping the same hours as the elderly, and it is beginning to get a bit disturbing. In general, babies and the elderly are a lot alike- strange sleeping habits, an inability to control their bowel movements and a diet made up mostly of soft, pureed food- but I never expected that I would essentially be living the life of an old man at the age of 25 just because I take care of a baby.

I started to notice it a few weeks ago when the baby and I were at the park. I looked around at one point and saw nothing but elderly people all around me. Sitting on benches, slowly strolling up and down the paths, taking Polaroids of trees and boats. This phenomenon has continued every time we have gone to the park since, simply because we happen to go at about the same time that the local assisted living facility takes its daily outdoor field trip.

(This, incidentally, is how I learned that Russian women are heartless. While most of the American and other unidentified races of elderly approach me often to compliment me on the baby, reminisce about their families and make baby noises, the Russian women tend instead to glare as we walk by. They have no interest in seeing a baby. It does not remind them of their grandchildren. It does not brighten their day. In fact, it seems that nothing brightens their day. They even frown as they walk around the park on a 50 degree day in November which, if you think about it, has to be down right scorching for someone who grew up in Moscow).

In any event, once I realized that we were on schedule with the assisted living home it occurred to me that the baby and I inadvertently have been keeping old people hours. We are up at 6, I usually eat lunch by 11, nap by 2 and am ready for dinner and a stiff drink by 5. A true early bird, if you will.

The other day the baby and I had some errands to run and started out like it was a normal day. We made a few stops and got a few things done, and I found myself in the vicinity of the mall. I had little desire to go back home already, since the baby seemed content to be out, so I decided we'd kill some time and see what the place had to offer. Walk around, maybe Build a Bear, maybe a soft pretzel, Home Depot if there is time, etc. It never occurred to me that we may be at the mall too early for any of that. We had been up since 5:45. This was practically mid-day for me. We walked in the front door of the mall at 9:12 a.m. (which, to me, is not an unreasonably early time) only to realize that the only stores open were Starbucks, McDonalds and the Apple Store (because evil never sleeps). So what did we do? Joined the legions of elderly people in walking the mall loop.

'My doctor says I need to keep active to avoid arthritis and keep my blood pressure down. If I walk now I'll have the energy to play with the grand kids later.' 

Disappointed and a little disturbed, honestly, that the stores in the mall open so late (damn kids and their sleeping in can't get to Journey's to open before 10!) we returned home. The baby was asleep so I settled in to watch some kick ass daytime TV.

For those of you with jobs and lives, you may not be aware that Wayne Brady now hosts a new version of Lets Make A Deal right before the Price is Right. Yes, I enjoy this. Me and every old person in America love Wayne Brady and Drew Carey. While watching my two-hour block of fabulous cash and prizes I saw the usual commercials. Hover Round. Polident. Activia. But due to my recent experiences, by the time it was over I started to feel like my walk at the mall would have been aided by a motorized scooter, and I was looking for a way to cure my occasional irregularity, overactive bladder and moderate to severe psoriasis... ACTIVON! APPLY DIRECTLY TO WHERE IT HURTS!

I know that it will only be another few months that I am on old people hours, but it is starting to disturb me. I don't want to pick up old people tendencies. I don't want to start eating fish and mashed potatoes for lunch. I don't want to drive my car through a storefront and kill three people. I don't want BPH or an enlarged prostate. I like old people, but I don't want to be one.

With that I will leave you with one more story of the elderly. On Monday I had to go to the bank to pay my rent. Among the customers ahead of me were three old men. The first walked up to the teller with several crumbled pieces of paper.

'I need to check my balance. My account number is in here somewhere,' he said. The teller read him his balance.

'Is there anything else, sir?' she asked,

'No. That's all, thank you.'

The second man comes up to the teller.

'I need to take out $40. My account number is *******. I'd also like a balance.'

'Ok, sir. I need to see some identification, please.'

'Identification?! I jut gave you the damn account number.'

'Sir...' (a back and forth ensues, which ends with the man leaving because he didn't have his wallet).

The third old man comes up, as I am now at the teller window next to him, and begins speaking in a foreign tongue that I believe was Russian, but I cannot be sure. The American teller has no idea what he is saying. Eventually another elderly person in the office was able to translate. He wanted to withdraw $20 from his savings account.

That was three men, all seemingly over the age of 70, whose lives could have been made so much easier by simply learning to use an ATM card. I was, and still am, flabbergasted by the lack of technological advancement in the elderly. It isn't an iPod, it's an ATM card, and it will come in handy some day if you need to pick up a new pair of orthopedic shoes for your mall exercises.I am thinking about teaching a class. Banking for the elderly. It will have to be at like 4 in the afternoon, though, can't interrupt dinner at 5. Or BINGO at 6.