I Used to Be a Person!
An Observation from the Piano Chair.
They sit there once a week. Some in wheelchairs, some in walkers, some able still to get about on their own. Those are the lucky ones or maybe the unlucky ones.
For some reason I have yet to divine I have felt compelled for years to volunteer as a piano player in retirement homes for many years. The people actually seem to enjoy it, particularly if one is familiar with the so-called "Great American Songbook."
Many of them are very sharp and come talk to me. Often, they have a vast knowledge of the swing era, many having lived through it. Absolutely fascinating.
They are retired soldiers and doctors and engineers and road workers and lovers and fighters and all the things we are. Nly...an old person? More importantly why?!
otice I said are, not were as would be somehow customary.
At what point, at what day, at what hour, at what moment do you cease being something and become...generical
Which brings me back to where I started...some places I perform ...they lack even that quiet look of stoic resignation...as if a number 2 nail has been driven into their skull. Do they know the music is there? Does it help them or hurt them...there is no way to know. That is why they may be the lucky ones, they don't really know what is going on and they are spared the freshly minted daily horrors which seems like that is all the world has become. And what is still yet to come!
So next time you see an "old" person try to remember that they ARE somebody...just like you and me...and when is my turn - when is your turn?
I leave you with this thought and maybe it comes to mind once in a while.
"The measure of a society is how it treats it's weakest members."
- Ghandi