Ageism and the DYE Movement

I bumped into an older woman I hadn't seen for some time, and found her brown hair had turned a different colour.

Gone grey?

No: pink.

Ah, dyed it. No one goes grey any more, when you can get a whole rainbow in a bottle.

Pride-dye? Proudly striving for youthfulness?

Yes, because ageism is the last "ism". The one we still tolerate.

Ageism is the DYE movement, which moves against the elderly: "Diversity, Youth, Exclusion".

There are compensations though. When they get to a certain age some elders stop worrying about people-pleasing, keeping a job, maintaining a reputation and being politically-correct. Those are the ones who might speak up for their more timid peers:

                                 

                                  Media Visit to Granny's Free Speech Kiosk

Interviewer: So Granny, this is a nice little business enterprise you've made for yourself.

Granny: Yes, censorship opens up a surprising number of commercial opportunities.

Interviewer: So, in taking this opportunity would you call yourself a free-speech heroine, or a trouble-maker?

Granny: I don't aim to be either, although heroism often does cause trouble -- for someone.

Interviewer: Will it make trouble for you if someone decides your speech is too incorrect? Aren't you afraid of being shot?

Granny: Yes -- so this is bullet-proof glass I'm sitting behind.

Interviewer: Ah. Opinions can be dangerous. Maybe you should add a Danger-Pay Surcharge to your fee.

Granny: Really, speech should be free. If someone is wise and broke, I'll express their forbidden thoughts gratis. (But don't tell the rich folks ...) Everything is monetized now. Your own magazine charges buyers or advertisers to read your words.

Interviewer: True. I see you have quite an audience around your booth. Do some get upset if they don't approve when you contradict fashionably-correct attitudes?

Granny: I do get an audience, but no one has to stay and listen if something offends them. The other side of free speech is the freedom to not listen.

Interviewer: You're performing a public service, eh?

Granny: Indeed. I'm retired, I've got my little pension, I can afford to do this because I don't have to please an employer who could fire me for expressing what their pollsters have determined are not the popular public attitudes of the moment.

Interviewer: Well good luck, Granny! Stay safe.

Granny: I'll be fine. The up-side of being an old granny is that by being dismissed by influencers and virtue-signallers, we oldsters are also often overlooked by cancel-culture.

* * *

"Democracy is not about how many people vote but about how many people feel free to say what they think in public".

-- V. Ramaswamy, 2022


"... in the sunset of life ... I feel it my special mission to tell people what they are not prepared to hear."



-- Elizabeth Cady Stanton,1898

Decrepitude-Envy

                      A short play presented at Seniors' and Community Centres                       by the Alexandria Players (https://alexandriaplayers.blogspot.com/)

Three friends -- Liz, Eve, and Rena -- sit chatting over coffee.

Liz:  This will be the last time we get together for coffee 'til spring. Which warm climes are you two off to this winter?

Eve:  Why is it always "climes", not climates, when people talk about  holiday plans? 

Rena:  Yes, why? And always "wanderlust", never just plain travel.  

Eve:  The romance of the voyage, I guess. The journey. Anyway, to answer your first question, I'm off to Arizona. If I even get past the airport, that is. Airports are so fussy about security now. I never know what I can take onboard.

Liz:  I know. I just hope my new metallic hip-joint won't set off alarms.

Eve:  You're lucky you've only got one. I've got two new hips and a new knee to worry about.

Liz:  Of course, I've got my pacemaker too.

Eve:  What with all the titanium, plastic in our cataract-free eyes, gold in our teeth and computers in our hearing aids, we own more mineral wealth than some of the smaller countries!

Liz:  You've got computerized hearing aids?

Eve:  Yes. The "SmartEar". Much smarter than a phone -- you program it to recognize phrases you don't like so it can automatically digitally delete them. There's a barrier between your ear and your brain, so you can filter out opinions you disagree with. 

Liz:  Brilliant! Much better than writing Letters to the Editor about them. Robotic Intelligence, eh?

Eve:  Somehow it uses the gold crowns on your teeth as a conductor of ... something or other ...

Rena:  (drily) Thus transplanting your brain into the robot. Oh, the irony.

Eve:  No Rena, gold ... not iron. Sounds like your hearing's going too. You need a SmartEar.

Liz:  It's my pills I'll be worried about -- airports are so fussy about drugs.

Eve:  (sighs) Yes -- remember when being beyond a certain age meant being beyond suspicion too?

Liz:  No longer. My cousin was accused of smuggling drugs in his colostomy bag.

Eve:  And the airport security line-ups are so slow. But I've got a terrific new walking stick for passing the time: the knob comes off the top so you can keep your -- shall we say -- "energy drink" inside it. And there's a button on one side that makes an umbrella pop up if it rains. But here's the best part: another button can make bullets shoot out of the shaft!

Liz:  Bullets??

Eve:  Yes, it converts into a gun! So if there's one of those terrorist incidents, you're armed. Brilliant eh?

Liz:  Wow, that's what I call concealed-carry.

Eve:  I predict walking stick firearms will soon be legal.

Rena:  (rolling her eyes) So the airport check-in desk has a sign saying "Triggering language will not be tolerated", yet triggers on guns will be? I'm so glad I never travel.

Liz:  Oh but you should! Think of the fun you're missing -- once you get out of the airport, that is. I take a few pills to calm myself in pre-boarding. I've got this great new pill-dispenser in the shape of the Prime Minister. To keep track of how many pills you've forgotten you've taken, they come out of his mouth one by one. You can pretend they came from a government Pharmacare plan, rather than being paid for out of your own pocket.

Rena:  (drily) At least you didn't pay for all the metallic hardware yourself.

Liz:  A benefit of being a senior. Have you noticed all the airport staff look about twelve? And that they act weird? Like they all have autism or mood disorders or something that young people go in for.

Eve:  Yeah, like "social anxiety". What is that anyway? They should make a Prime Ministerial Pill-Dispenser for it. Where did you get that product? I wonder if there's one with pills coming out of his other end -- like so much of what politicians say.

Liz:  I'll send you the website URL. Airport staff probably get them on an employees' health plan -- the "Anticipatory Mental Illness Plan".

Eve:  Young people today have so many ailments it's unbelievable.

Liz:  I call it decrepitude-envy. 

Eve:  It takes a life-time to become decrepit, but no one wants to earn their diseases any more. Anyway (she lifts her coffee mug in a toast) I'm off to buy my airline tickets. See you next Spring, Chickens!

Liz and Rena:  'bye-bye ... 'bye-bye ...  Happy Flight-Trails! 

-- They make a last toast with their mugs.