Putting a little humor in the aging process

It's remarkable how many people out there still have old Ashley Cooper clippings. Occasionally, they'll find their way to my office, where, as I've said before, I'm all too happy to start the process of recycling.

Consider the following humorous poem on aging, which seems to have originally appeared sometime in the early 1960s, and was brought back at least once by popular demand. Lord Ashley wasn't the author, but apparently was amused by it, as were others at the time.

How do I know my youth is all spent?

Well, my get up and go has got up and went.

But in spite of it all, I am able to grin

When I think of where my get up has been.

Old age is golden — so I've heard it said.

But sometimes I wonder — as I get into bed.

With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup,

My eyes on a table until I wake up

Ere sleep dims my eyes, I say to myself,

"Is there anything else I would lay on the shelf?"

And I am happy to say as I close my door,

My friends are the same — only perhaps even more.

When I was young and my slippers were red

I could kick my heels right over my head.

When I grew older my slippers were blue

But still I could dance the whole night through.

Now I am old, my slippers are black,

I walk to the store — and puff my way back.

The reason I know my youth is all spent —

My get up and go has got up and went.

But I really don't mind, when I think with a grin,

Of all the grand places my get up has been.

Since I have retired from life's competition

I busy myself with complete repetition.

I get up each morning, dust off my wits,

Pick up The Courier and read the obits.

If my name is missing, I know I'm not dead;

So I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed.

Speaking of the (doctor's) office, I've mentioned before that sometimes I'll try to introduce levity into a situation, just to remind people that a visit to the doctor doesn't always have to be about stress-related medical or person problems.

One of the (unoriginal) lines I sometimes use has to do with the "senior moment," which we're all prone to having, including myself. For example, a fine older gentleman, who is somewhat of a prissy body, came in to see me recently. During the course of conversation, he had a brief mental lapse and sighed warily.

"Don't you worry about a thing," I reassured him. "You've simply got a touch of what I've had for a long time."

"What's that? Alzheimer's?"

"Well, no."

"What then?"

"Something called CRS."

At that point he began shifting in his seat a little, and the hint of coloring appeared on his face and neck.

"Can't Remember Stuff," I said.

"Oh!" he laughed nervously. "Thank goodness!"

In the unexpectedly severe tumult of the current economic climate, most people have been caught off guard, including many economists. It pretty much goes to show, once again, that nobody really knows much about the economy, including the economists.

Walter Duane reminded me not long ago of a quote by George Bernard Shaw, who is supposed to have said (paraphrasing) that if you laid all the economists end to end, they wouldn't reach a conclusion.

President Truman said his ideal for the perfect economist would be he who has only one arm, because once an economist convinces you of the facts, he'll then say, "on the other hand ..."

Maybe the advice "Buy low, sell high" is as good as it gets.

That plus a pot of gold.

Edward M. Gilbreth is a Charleston physician. Reach him at edwardgilbreth@comcast.net.