How Terribly Strange to Be Seventy - A Short Ramble

Gold cherry

By hudsonmoon

Sat, 07 Mar 2026
  • 477 reads
13 comments
 

I read a magazine article that told me we develop ‘old people smell’ by the age of 70.   

Granted, the article was trying to sell me a fifteen dollar bar of smelly-old-people soap.

“You would tell me? Right? I've been in my seventies for two years. You’re not just being nice?”

I said this to the person who shares the other side of our bed. The one with the covers over her head. I assumed she was sleeping and not ignoring me. I let it pass.

Seventy two? Occasionaly I’ll take a peak at my picture ID; checking the date for accuracy. Yep. 12/17/53. It’a all over the damn place: birth certificate; school records; marriage certificate; New York State ID, and passport. I don’t want to think about where it will show up next. No, no, no! I know what you were thinking. I was thinking the local senior center. Where I’ll no doubt end up, scoffing at ridiculous old people breaking wind and peeing their trousers as they nap.

“We just don’t let anyone in here, pal. You got some ID?”

I’ll open my briefcase and show him my life in certified indentifications.

“Wow. Pretty impressive,” he’ll say. “You don’t look your age. Let me get a good whiff. Whoa! Welcome to the club! The accordian player will be here any minute. Hope you brought along your polka shoes. And don't forget the six feet apart rule. It can get pretty intense in here.”

I shake off the thought and try to be positive. I do try to stay active, but, aside from walking I’ve never been physically active. My favorite things to do I do sitting: writing; playing guitar, and trimming my toenails. Oh, and binge watching anything to avoid practicing my three favorite things to do.

I may take to writing in bed. That could be a favorite new thing.

Mark Twain—in his cantankerous older years—took to writing in bed. I then remembered that he croaked at the age of 75. Yikes! I think I’ll pass on adding another activity to my lazy man’s guide to a longer life. I’ve got high school and college graduations to attend in ten years plus. I plan on being there in more than spirit.

I can hear the jokes now:

“Grammy? Do you know where Grampy is? He said he’d be here.”

“I have a stuffy nose, dear. Go ask the dog.”

 

 

Photo courtesy of Wiki Commons:

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Mark_Twain.png

Certificate U
Biography
Humour

Comments

Submitted by insertponceyfre... on

Thanks for this Hudson. How about writing The Lazy Man’s Guide to a Longer Life? From a chair, just in case. Slowly, to take. you up to the graduations. I look forward to reading it!! In the meantime, how's your Craven Danger book coming along?

 

Submitted by hudsonmoon on

I did put something together and had someone look at it. And I had to agree that it needed more. So I am at it. What it needs is a proper protagonist running through the stories. And I do have one--two in fact: Manny Moreso and Hortense Wilkins. Let's say they're the dark side of Craven and Betty. I did use them in one story a few years ago, and don't know why i dropped them. And thank you for asking. In the meantime I've been having fun with Jesus and the twins. I have more in the works. x

 

Submitted by Mark Say on

 

 

Submitted by hudsonmoon on

Ha. I did not, Mark. It was actually a pack of three for $45.00. They can just call me Stinky.

 

Submitted by airyfairy on

It's the scent of wisdom, Hudson. Of course it is. We just have to keep reminding other people of that. Who needs soap?

Brought a laugh to a grey chilly day. Many thanks!

Submitted by hudsonmoon on

Hi, Jane. The only time my wife told me I smelled, was when I'd use Old Spice under arm deodorant (my dad's favorite). She couldn't understand how I ever got lucky going around smelling like someone's dad. lol. x

Rich 

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

Loved this :0) It's great to have one of your updates - did you get all that snow?

 

Submitted by celticman on

I went to school with Mark Twain. He couldn't spell, but he could smell bejiggery. 

 

Submitted by marandina on

It's invariably uplifting to get these notes from across The Pond.

This is today's Facebook, X/Twitter and BlueSky Pick of the Day.

Congratulations, Rich. 

 

Submitted by hudsonmoon on

Thanks for the honors, Paul. I wasn't around yesterday, so it was nice when this popped up. Always grateful. Hope all is well on your end. 

Rich

 

Submitted by lenchenelf on

About twenty years ago, my eldest announced she'd know when I was officially old as I'd perpetually pong of eau de cabbage and wee.

Hey ho, at least I'll get reasonable personal space on a crowded buswink

Something to look forward to. Thanks for the chuckle.

Best

L

 

Submitted by GlosKat on

I agree with you Richard - Seventy ?  where did that come from ?

I have noticed it in the last few years at yoga.  It's not getting into the positions which is getting harder - it's getting out of them.  At some point in the long distant future someone will find me knotted up and keeled over.  And when I do Down Dog and I'm looking backwards at my ankles, I can see they are wrinkled like a pachyderm's or Norah Batty's * stockings. 

I run on the treadmill, or go to spin classes now rather than road running.  I tell myself it's because of my bad knee, but really it's because running on the road is just too damned hard.

It's much better in France we'd only be in our sixties there - I'd be soixante-onze, and you'd be soixante-douze. In fact we'd be in our sixties right up to, and including, 79 !

* feminist icon from the north of England

 

 

 

Submitted by ScoZen on

 

 

                                    "...on the 4:10 to Cold Spring..."

 Mr M Twain is the man responsible for breaking wind on the 4: 10 train heading to the Big Apple.

A gentlemans club I understand, not for one with a whiff of the Mississippi River on his clothing.

'Sorry sir'    Richard said.   ' Can I suggest you ride the rails down to St Petersburg or take...'

Regards.

ScoZen