Taking the bus yesterday due to an elasticated knee support and bandaged wrist I actually felt a little more like “the mummy” at least on my left side. Then a cute, little, vintage sports car passed by on the other side, canvas roof back, the owners proudly beaming. I thought, “They must have paid a lot of money for that and take real good care of it.”
Then it occurred to me maybe I should think of myself more like that car, that age can mean special! I thought of my granddaughter plying me for stories for her history blog, the old lady I’d met earlier who told me fascinating facts about the conservative little town where I live – that 50 years ago there’d been 42 pubs (if you saw how small my town is you would have been likewise astounded!) I remembered China where the older folks are venerated for their wisdom etc. (I quite enjoyed that lol!)
I realised perhaps I should substitute words like old, decrepit, ancient, with antique, vintage, and valuable. Sure the car took extra care, probably required quality fuel and frequent overhauls, but it seemed to run quite smoothly (as my body usually does) and was far more interesting than the newer models. So from now on I’m going to apply the word “vintage” to myself and forget those other more depressing labels.