THE TALE OF THE BLUE HAIRS AND THE ALL YOU CAN EAT BUFFET

I suppose I should start by first apologizing for this blog entry, in case it offends anyone.  And let me make it abundantly clear that I adore the elderly.  In fact, if the stars a line accordingly, I hope to make it to that distinguished status myself one day.

However, the other day I got to pondering away in my never ending chaotic mess of what I term loosely as my brain, regarding the elderly.  I suppose that since my grandmother is turning the ripe old age of 95 years old a week from today, that certain thoughts started to flutter.

I was reminiscing about my other grandmother, who had passed away when I was in my 20's.  She was 78 at the time and had a faulty heart valve.  In essence, the warranty had run out on this amazing device that kept her alive for a large part of her life.  We had a small family inturnment followed by a tea at her retirement complex.  I remember walking into the tea feeling that slight numbness that usually follows after you have just lost someone you loved, but walked out of the tea in complete amusement followed by utter disbelief.  We had just witnessed what I would call nothing short of a full out piranha eating frenzy.  The hall was filled to the brim with a sea of “blue hairs” who had donned on their feed bags and were gorging their selves silly as if it were their last meal.  In fact, we the family, who were mourning my grandmother’s loss, were lucky if we were able to obtain a drop of tea that day.

I would like to think that this was an isolated incident but a few years later, myself and three of my friends had decided to take a long weekend and stay at this lodge on the ocean.  The owner had neglected to advise us that the lodge was also being inhabited by a rather large geriatric card playing Bridge Group. 

The lodge itself was spectacular, and the other inhabitants were deeply and quietly engrossed in their game, and we were free to wander throughout the grounds soaking in the beauty of nature and listening to the lapping of the ocean waves without a peep from another human being. That was until we were subjected to the cattle call being rung, three times daily for meals, at which time the stampede of blue hairs was something to behold.  They appeared out of nowhere from every crook and cranny possible.  Literally, little old ladies who could barely walk one minute earlier were throwing their walkers and canes to the side and sprinting at a pace that would have even impressed Carl Lewis in order to get to that food first.  I actually had one lady take her cane and Tonya Harding my Nancy Kerrigan knees just in order to get one person in front of me.  And if that wasn’t bad enough, let me tell you, you have never seen anything until you have seen some senior citizen at an all you can eat buffet.  The food on their plates were piled as far as the eye could see!  They didn’t care what they put on their plate, just as long as that plate was a foot or more high!  Whether it was meat, salads, pasta, condiments or desserts, if you can name it, it was there teetering precariously on their already over flowed dish.  And if you think it can’t get any worse, I am here to tell you it did.  Crooked fingers were thrust into my face followed by shrill voices that said “move it girly”.  Elbows were thrust into my stomach followed by expressions such as “get it before those young’uns do” and “hurry hurry Esther, those girls are coming, get it now!”  Seemingly sweet looking grandmothers were purposely sticking their canes out in order to trip us on the way to the dessert table.  I spent most of those meals covering my head in order to avoid being beaten by one of the many granny Wal-Mart nylon encrusted white purses that you see everyone over the age of 80 carrying!  Suffice to say that I lost a total of 8 pounds that weekend from the complete lack of food, and I do not exaggerate when I say that I ate so little that a small mouse would have dropped dead from sheer starvation.  Needless to say, I eventually got in my car and drove the 30 km to the nearest convenience food store in order to purchase some severely overly processed sustenance just to sustain my energy from the next elderly onslaught!

I learned a lot that weekend.  I learned that should some serious disaster hit the earth, it would not be survival of the fittest.  It would be survival of the blue hair.  I learned that canes not only assist in facilitating balance for walking but also can be used as lethal weapons.  I learned that you should always take a wide girth around a scrawny but rather fast-moving, sharp, elderly elbow. But mostly, I learned that under every blue hair, wrinkled face, sparkly eyed grandmother lies a most incredibly worthy opponent.

Until Next Time.

Smooches Pooches