How To Live In A Blue Zone - Lesson One

Maybe after reading my blog for a while, you begin to wonder why I seem to write about old people a lot.  Well, how lucky you are to actually have choices, such as whether to talk about old people or all the younger people that you come into contact with everyday.  You see, I don't have that much choice, because I live in what is referred to as a "blue zone."   According to Wikipedia : Blue Zones is a concept used to identify a demographic and/or geographic area of the world where people live measurably longer lives.

So in other words, where I live,  I am outnumbered by the old folks and I am unlikely to live as long or longer than they are unless I follow their RULES  based on some sort of scientific research which attempts to explain why these folks will not die.   Here are the common lifestyle characteristics that contribute to their longevity.

• Family – put ahead of other concerns. ✕ Not unless they find me and hold me hostage.
• Less smoking ✔
• Semi-vegetarianism – except for the Sardinian diet, the majority of food consumed is derived from plants.  ✔ Grapes are plants, right?
• Constant moderate physical activity – an inseparable part of life. ✕  Um.  No.
• Social engagement – people of all ages are socially active and integrated into their communities.   ✕  the thing is, I'm not a joiner.
• Legumes – commonly consumed ✕  ( kind of explains the old person farting thing. I'm gonna pass.)

 Yep,  if we stand a chance of living as long as these guys we have to do a lot of things we don't want to do, so Yeah.  Fuck it.   It looks like I'm living with the last of the Blue Zoners here, but since they are members of the undead, you could, in all scientific probability,  be reading about Old People (both real and mythical) on this blog  for quite some time, now, so bring a snack and a juice box and don't forget to pee.

Moving forward.......I have been hinting about this little known truth all along, but I think it's time to get this shit out in the open, so let's get on with Lesson One (likely the only lesson, as I am a quitter, afterall.) but hey, maybe one lesson is all you'll ever need.  Ok, here it is:

Lesson One

Despite their actions, appearances, and reputations,  Old People know exactly what they are doing every minute of everyday.

 Oh, yeah, they will walk around with questioning looks on their faces, and speak in those soft quivering voices.  They will lean on their  cane or walker, and give you that really confused look, but hey.  They are not fooling everyone.

Anytime they play stupid (slow/senile/challenged in some way) they are putting on an act/lying/fucking with us.  Now that we have established this fact, I'd also like to expose the Old Person Couple Act, the "Gang" of The Old Folks (because they don't get out enough to form a real gang. It's just Mom and Pop, guys, just Gram and Gramps.)

If you have taken notes in your spy notebooks recently , and I know that you have,  because let's face it, you've suspected something all along and you have way too much time on your hands, you know that Old People rarely travel alone, and if they do, well, then, they are the castoffs of Old People Society.  ANd if you think about what might constitute an outcast in this particular society, well, you have to know that these people are the Mother of all, the Rocks Stars of, the Charles Mansons of  Outcasts.

So let's just forget about the Lone Old Person for a moment, or for good because it's an urban myth.  It's an artist's rendition. I's a subliminal suggestion.  It's a drug induced apparition.  Ok, you get it.  There is no such thing as a Lone Old Person.  Old people never roam the streets alone.  At the very least they are connected by cellphone a Walkie Talkie or telepathy to another Old Person.  But because they are old and can't operate technology and walkie talkies don't have much range at all, and telepathy is unreliable, Old People  usually physically pair up.  We are talking about The Old Person Couple, usually a man and a woman, but hey, more and more same sex people are reaching old age every day, so fuck are we ever in trouble now, because you know, the increasing numbers of elderly are just - well, terrifying, really. Like Zombie-scary.  They will be taking over the supermarkets first, but then the banks and the post office. They will playing their I'm too old to do anything without a lot of help card and we will never ever be able to get our stuff done in time ever again.  And mostly because we are not on to their plots.  Well, I mean YOU are not.  I AM.  Have a seat. Get comfy.  I'm here to help you.

I plan to give you regular updates on the evil plots of these gangs, the ways they are slowly and carefully taking over the world, knowing , as they do, that as Blue Zoners they will outlive us all.

Today's Truth:  THEY WILL MONOPOLIZE YOUR TIME and MESS WITH YOUR SCHEDULE EVERY CHANCE THEY GET.

Yesterday I was in a small store in town, barely bigger than a quicky mart because I had but a few things to get and I wanted to make it fast.  There were very few shoppers inside and so my plan had a good chance of working, but when reaching the checkout, I saw that a Gang of old people, Gram and Gramps, were in front of me.  I quickly scratched off any remaining items on my to do list and moved them to the next day because obviously my day was now about to be fucked.   I watched as their very few purchases moved ever so slowly towards the cashier, not daring to hope as I watched them scanned.  When the cashier reached for the very last item, Gram said to Gramps,

"Oh, Frank, did we get the juice?"

my shoulders dropped and I muffled a groan.

Gramps : "No. Want me to get it?"

Gram:  (to cashier) "Oh, is it still on sale?"

Cashier: "Let me check." (pulls out a flyer and my life ticks slowly away.)  "Yep, still on sale!!"

Gram: "Oh, good."

Me:  "Super."

Cashier: "Want me to get it for you?"

Gramps: "No, I'll get it."

Gramps and his cane and his moans and groans forces me to move the cart out of his way and lose the will to live and well, basically, that was the end of my day. Luckily the end of my day includes a glass of wine, so I was pretty happy about that, and I'm here to tell the tale.

Point is.  They seem sweet but they are devilishly sadistic and agonizingly slow - all ON PURPOSE. And after, at about 2:00 pm, they all meet in the mall, have a coffee and a donut and compare notes.

And then....They laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh and then pee themselves.

END OF LESSON ONE AND MAYBE THE END OF THE WHOLE COURSE,  WHO KNOWS? I COULD BE DEAD TOMORROW.  BUT THESE PEOPLE WON'T BE.  WHY DON'T YOU ASK ONE OF THEM TO CONTINUE THE COURSE?  THEY"VE GOT NUTHIN BUT TIME.