The Age Thing
The Washington media is all wrong on this Biden age “issue.”
Did you catch him at the White House Correspondents Dinner? He’s still got game.
Will the media put the age scope on 76-year-old Trump? Have you watched him haul his butt out of a golf cart? Or struggle to construct a coherent thought?
Ageism is no more acceptable than sexism, racism, ableism and weight-shaming.
You should meet my friends.
The 80-year-old who hikes the Appalachian Trail.
The 84-year-old lawmaker who commands respect from both sides of the aisle.
The 85-year-old who’s in the gym every morning, walks 10,000 steps a day and critiques my blogs before I post them. Between his busy social life and BMOC duties at the retirement complex, I can barely get on his calendar for lunch.
The 86-year-old at yoga class who does a forward fold and puts her hands on the floor without bending her knees.
The 89-year-old who walks along the Neuse River 45 minutes a day and likes to talk politics and catch up on people he and I have known through 50 years in newspapers and politics.
The 90-plus woman who still drives her convertible and likes to gossip over a glass of wine at parties.
My late stepfather, a WWII veteran who was wounded in combat four times, was going to the gym and walking two miles at 95.
My grandmother lived to be 107! At 100, she was still driving and living at home – and giving you a piece of her mind.
Don’t get us geezers riled up. One thing we do is get to the voting booth.
We Democrats have no age limits. We have a 25-year-old state party chair and an 80-year-old President.
As Dark Brandon would say, “We got you covered, man.”
The Age Thing
The Washington media is all wrong on this Biden age “issue.”
Did you catch him at the White House Correspondents Dinner? He’s still got game.
Will the media put the age scope on 76-year-old Trump? Have you watched him haul his butt out of a golf cart? Or struggle to construct a coherent thought?
Ageism is no more acceptable than sexism, racism, ableism and weight-shaming.
You should meet my friends.
The 80-year-old who hikes the Appalachian Trail.
The 84-year-old lawmaker who commands respect from both sides of the aisle.
The 85-year-old who’s in the gym every morning, walks 10,000 steps a day and critiques my blogs before I post them. Between his busy social life and BMOC duties at the retirement complex, I can barely get on his calendar for lunch.
The 86-year-old at yoga class who does a forward fold and puts her hands on the floor without bending her knees.
The 89-year-old who walks along the Neuse River 45 minutes a day and likes to talk politics and catch up on people he and I have known through 50 years in newspapers and politics.
The 90-plus woman who still drives her convertible and likes to gossip over a glass of wine at parties.
My late stepfather, a WWII veteran who was wounded in combat four times, was going to the gym and walking two miles at 95.
My grandmother lived to be 107! At 100, she was still driving and living at home – and giving you a piece of her mind.
Don’t get us geezers riled up. One thing we do is get to the voting booth.
We Democrats have no age limits. We have a 25-year-old state party chair and an 80-year-old President.
As Dark Brandon would say, “We got you covered, man.”