old people

I have such and affection for old people. I think they are really cool. Sometimes I think they are really cute but then I remind myself that is a pretty darn condescending way to think about old people. That is like saying they are like fuzzy pink stuffed bunny rabbits that are harmless, simplistic and pretty dumb.

I saw this old lady in front of my building the other day. She had super long peppered hair, a black cold weather jacket that was rolled up at the sleeves and a super brightly patterned long skirt. It has this crazy, loud pattern of green, red, yellow, blue shaped outlined in black.

I like old people who wear whatever the hell they want, say whatever the hell they want (well, except when they just say downright mean things just because they want to cause someone hurt), and do things because they want to or because they are fun.

When I was in college, I wanted to be the old lady who wore the mohair cardigan that had mothballs in her pockets. That was until my asthma came back (a product of living in NYC during 2001) and I had an asthma attack after a mothball incident. I need to find a new thing to put in my pockets.