I get notices from the Iowa legislators about how great it is that I’m getting to be an old fart. An Iowa senator even reminded me: “Check your driver’s license to see if it’s time to renew!”
That’s one of the few things I’m up to “speed” on—see what I did there?
Other things remind me that I’m getting older. I walk slower. I can make several miles by walking out to the mall, walking up and down inside, and walking back. I made 5 miles yesterday.
Here’s the thing; I don’t powerwalk and, for the first time, I made a couple of stops along the way to rest. I’ve never done that before. Part of the reason is that, early this spring I had a bout of painful shin splints and calf cramps which took me a week to recover from. I wrote a very long blog post about that.
This time, before I set out for home, I was sitting inside and watching people outside. The bench I sat on faces the parking lot and a street runs along just outside of it. There’s a crosswalk visible from my bench.
As I gazed out at the parking lot, I saw one blue SUV with the two doors on the driver’s side wide open, making it impossible for anyone to park in the lane next to it. One elderly gentleman wearing a cap sat shotgun and appeared to be napping. A few minutes later, a woman with an unsteady gait made her way out to the car. She moved slowly and a few times I though she might topple over. She didn’t look very old, and she might have been younger than me, but not by much. She got in the back seat behind the napping man. The two side doors remained open.
A few minutes later, an old man with a wheeled walker came out of the mall and started to cross the street. He would push the walker forward a couple of inches at a time and then sort of drag his legs a couple of steps forward. He pushed the walker forward a couple of inches, and shuffled a couple of steps behind it; that’s the way he went. As I watched him, I wondered if I was going to have to hurry out there to help because I thought he might fall any second.
I actually took my eyes off him for a few minutes and when I looked back, I couldn’t see him in the crosswalk anymore. I figured he made it across, but then I noticed that the SUV was still sitting there and both driver’s side doors were still open. I peered around the crosswalk—and he was still scraping along, inching forward a few inches at a time. Drivers would have to either wait or back up and find another route.
He just kept creeping along. I think it took him all of 15 minutes just to get to the SUV, a distance that could have been measured linearly as not much more than 20 yards or so.
I remember wondering where and who the driver was. There were two seats left and I thought “No way is he the driver!” The driver must have still been in the mall somewhere.
As I sat there, the old man inched over to the SUV and finally made it. I almost could have taken a nap during the whole journey, but I’m not quite that old yet.
Then he opened the driver’s side back side door—and shoved his walker in the back seat! There was now only the driver’s seat open, and still no driver in sight.
And finally—the old guy got in the driver’s seat! He pulled up his trousers, started the SUV, backed carefully out of the parking lane and cruised smoothly out of the parking lot and away to who knows where, maybe a dance hall.
After I recovered from incredulity, I walked back home. I sat down to rest once before trying to across the street where, a month ago I had a sudden attack of calf cramps which nearly stopped me in the middle of the crossing. At that time, I had to hobble over to a bench and massage the cramps before heading the rest of the way home.
This time, as cars waited for me to get across, I could feel the cramps starting again but I slowed down instead of trying to trot across. I thought, “They’ll just have to wait.” No cramps this time.
Maybe that’s one of the reasons the state legislators send out cards and certificates to seniors. We help teach patience to others. You’re welcome.
Go Retire Psychiatrist 