Los Angeles, California, USA
October 22
Charming young lady, with sharp tongue and vocabulary of a seasoned longshoreman, who carries in her handbag worn and tattered membership cards to the Mayflower Society and Daughters of the American Revolution, for which her dues are in arrears.


Iamsurly's Links

APRIL 20, 2012 9:21AM

Accidents Will Happen

Rate: 12 Flag

So the other night Dave and I went to see Elvis Costello perform. This was a much awaited and anticipated night out. After all it was Elvis, the man who Dave fully understands I will leave his sorry ass for at the drop of a guitar pick. There's just that small matter of his wife and the fact that we've not met, but these are trivial details. Before the show we were sitting in the bar and having a little people watching with our wine when it dawned on me that the line of people waiting to get tickets or t-shirts was riddled with old people. There were parents and grandparents queuing up to see my heartthrob. Elvis is one of rock 'n' roll's well behaved, and well dressed, rebels. As a teenager it would have been embarrassing as all get out, and therefore unthinkable, if my mother were to sing-along to an Elvis Costello song. Elvis Presley is for adults. Elvis Costello is for the hipster youth. So what, pray tell, were all these old people doing at this concert wearing fedoras and denim? Who let them in?

Yeah, yeah I know. I'm in denial. Fair enough. You can sling that accusation my way. I'm in my 40's. Elvis is in his late 50's. Of course his fan base is aging. While I understand that I'm part of the aging population, I'm still not prepared to admit that I'm old or even getting there. Sure, I've got the trappings of age. Yeah, I'll confess to having grey pubic hair. Why not? I've confessed to pretty much everything else for your entertainment. But I don't tend to think of myself as old. I barely think of myself as an adult. People who know me don't think of me as an adult. But lately I'm being forced to recognize that while I may be living in a bubble of self-denial, the world around me is aging. It's really annoying when y'all try and burst my bubble.

Of course there's the obvious measures that people take to preserve their looks. Shooting faces up with pharmaceutical grade epoxy to make sure that you don't notice that they have wrinkles, or facial expressions, is de rigueur. We're forgoing underwires in our bras in favour of silicone implants to hold up our sagging breasts. And, it would appear now that the parts of aging that we can no longer ignore and apparently can't fix with an injection, we're trying to make fun and hip. Like wetting your pants.

Now sure, I know what you're thinking. What else can an aging mediocre starlet hope to do when reality TV and Dancing with the Stars have failed to revive their career? And I'm with you there, 100%. Really I am. But, several years ago, I thought that the whole Jamie Lee Curtis-Free-Yourself-From-Constipation-With-Yogurt was an advertising aberration, and boy, was I wrong. We are no longer in the realm of Mr. T endorsing the FlavorWave Oven in an infomercial, or Justin Bieber sharing his acne secrets with his fanbase for Proactiv. Oh. Hell. No. We've well and truly slipped over the hill and are rolling like a boulder straight into the depths of despair. All hope is now lost. We've just heard the death rattle of the advertising subtlety of the Darren Stevens and Don Drapers of the past. We're in the afterlife now, baby, and apparently, it's getting popular to declare your right to wet your pants in public.

I can't wait to see what's next. Or maybe I can.

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Love your post, am about to attend the "Dig It Up" festival in Sydney with the Hoodoo Gurus, Sonics, The Fleshtones on the gig list. Am happy to love and see live gigs whatever age. At present watching Skrillex on cable TV. What can I say am in my 50's and tragic. PS have noted hair loss and wrinkles happen at any age.
I absolutely love this. Cling to your denial for as long as you can--seriously, who would fly in an airplane if it weren't for denial?
It makes me laugh when the media in commercials for, like, electric wheelchairs and diabetes mailorder blood meters, depicts "old people" these days grooving to Benny Goodman big band music. Don't they know that old people these days are us and we'd probably have an Elvis Costello, Led Zeppelin or Beatles soundtrack?
Every time I get mail from AARP I rip it up and stuff it into the postage paid return envelope then write this note on the back, "I have no desire to join an organization that lobbies for a bunch of greedy geezers. Take my name off your mailing list! Now!!!"
I certainly do not think of you as an adult.
I love the way you tie this all together, from the title to Elvis to Depends. I think I can also wait to see what's next. I really don't want to know.
Whenever I browse through clothes in some hip store here in Austin, like Urban Oufitters, I always imagine the buyer shrieking, " That old lady looked at that one and that one and that one! Get them off the racks NOW NOW NOW!"
Elvis has always been a "well-behaved" rocker. Some years ago, when he and I were still in our 20s, a young lady of my acquaintance went on a blind date with him (set up by her roommate who was somehow connected to the music biz). The date was nice, and after his show the following night he returned to London. She didn't expect anything to come of it, but to her surprise he sent her a beautiful and erudite thank-you note the following week. BTW her name was Alison, but she's not the one from the song.
Two quibbles surly. Elvis is not in his LATE 50s. He is younger than me, so that would be impossible.
The ladies are not "decrying" their taste for adult diapers, they are "declaring". To "decry" is to condemn.
Good catch. Corrected.

He's 58. He was born in 1954.
Oh Elvis! I am so jealous---I hope he comes out our way soon.

I rip up the old lady clothes catalogs that I've been receiving lately. I mean really---pastel polyester! Not even dead in a ditch.
I'm not getting too much old lady stuff yet, but since I have 6 months and 23 days until the big 5-0, it's just a matter of time. I saw that Lisa Rinna commercial; I'm not convinced she was wearing them.
So...how was Elvis?
". I'm in my 40's. Elvis is in his late 50's. "

Uh, I think you only get to stay in your 40's for only one decade, hon. It might be two, but I know you're SERIOUSLY stretching it by going for your third.

Just say'in.
Makes me think of this quote: "Old age is 15 years older than me." (Oliver Wendall Holmes)
Great piece.