Before you start reading this dissertation, I’d like to implant a little ditty in your brain for you to carry with you all day long. You must go back to the 70’s music to Lou Reed and listen to “Walk on the Wild Side”. This is insured to stay with you for at least a day. It’s been buzzing around in my head for a couple of days….God only knows why.
“…. Hey Babe, Take A Walk On The Wild Side,
Said Hey Honey, Take A Walk On The Wild Side.”
Said Hey Honey, Take A Walk On The Wild Side.”
Being a Senior Citizen is not for sissies’. Ask any of my high school classmates. So, I’ve aptly entitled this little story TAKE A WALK ON THE SILD SIDE.
Ask any of them, and they will still tell you that we still see things through the eyes we were born with, only with a bit more wisdom and maybe a little more aplomb (but not much). We try to be tactful, but the older we get, we see things for what they are, and it’s very difficult to just let stuff slide. We’ve learned to call a spade a SPADE: And, NO, there is NO racial slur there. It simply means we call it as we see it. However, I have found that it sometimes gets you ostracized from any group you happen to have joined; especially if the others are under 50 years old. They see to it that everything falls under the politically correct terms. We, on the other hand, we just don’t give a rat’s ass. I’ll be the first one to say when I’m being sexually harassed, or discriminated against for my age! You will definitely be informed.
One of my pet peeves is when I’ve had an oil change at the Dodge dealership. It’s really good service, and a really happy guy comes right up to the window ready to take information and exchange pleasantries for the morning. That’s not what I’m opposed to. It’s the fact that, as soon as you return home from there, the phone starts ringing. They want to speak to “Mr. Anderson”. I know it’s because I just had the oil changed in his Durango. They want to take a survey on the service performed at the Dodge dealership. They ask for “Mr. Anderson”, and I tell them, “He’s at work.” And that’s the truth. That’s why I took his car to get the oil changed. I know what they want, but I resent the fact that as soon as I return home they want to take a survey. They ask if there would be a better time to call, and I give them an unequivocal, “No”, after which a looonng silence ensues. Finally they just say, “Well, I’ll just call back.” …. Click. This keeps up until they are allowed to speak to “Mr.” I have my speech all planned for the next time they call. “Don’t call me: I’ll call you! BE WARE! We senior citizens can be wild, especially if irritated by pointless surveys."
I’m just saying, Don’t mess with me! I’ve just had the oil changed. That’s all. If there was a problem, you would know BEFORE I leave the premise! I will let YOU know. I have things to do when I get home; and none of them includes answering a very annoying “short survey”. Leave me alone, or I will verbally smack you with my imaginary cane!
