America's Elder Abuse

Still hot.

ON a personal level, the worst thing about the current race for the presidency -- besides the fact that the whole world is watching as the hairline cracks in our society approach the point of complete rupture -- is that the two candidates who are close to my age are always referred to as "elderly" by members of the media, especially that horrid witch Joy Reid on MSNBC who basically said after the RNC Convention last night that both men are ready for the glue factory. That hurt my feelings. (I've always hated her.)

President Biden is 81 but sounds and moves like he's 100, plus he's demented so he doesn't count. (My favorite line in Trump's acceptance speech last night was when he said a "mannequin or a dead man" could be elected president! I wonder who he meant.) But Donald Trump is nine days younger than I am yet seems much older, which makes me feel like crap. Am I that old too?

I may be 78 but I don't look it or feel it, at least not most of the time. Okay, admittedly mornings start out slow, but as soon as that first cup of coffee hits I'm good to go. I'm pretty sure I could handle the responsibilities of the presidency, except for having to get dressed up every day and attend a lot of meetings and dinner parties, which I would hate. But mentally I'm fine, save for remembering what I had for breakfast and that's hardly a matter of consequence.

Comedians and younger Americans revel in verbal elder abuse, with old age being the only condition permitted to be mocked with abandon despite the onus of political correctness. That being the case, I wish Trump would lose weight and get in shape -- hey, get a personal trainer -- and stop making 78 look so 'effing bleak. Listen, Cher is my age exactly and her boyfriend is 40 years younger. Take that, Joy Reid.