No Spring Chickens

In today's Wall Street Journal, a 57-year-old columnist discussing the relative merits of Clinton vs. Trump in the upcoming general election writes about Bernie Sanders: "What does it say about large dissatisfactions within the Democratic Party that this cranky old guy continues to pull out victories?"

I ask you: was that necessary? He didn't call Hillary "an old cow" or Trump "an old coot." Yet Bernie, at 74, is castigated for being old, that most hated of all epithets, when Clinton and Trump, no spring chickens either, would be ages 69 and 70, respectively, on Inauguration Day. 

This happens again and again when speaking of Sanders. So somewhere after the age of seventy, I'm guessing, you get too old to matter. As someone who will celebrate that milestone in three months, I find this alarming, disgusting, repellent, stupid, depressing and just plain wrong.