The nursing home had rules. Lots of rules. The powers that be made me jump through all the pandemic-era hoops before visiting. By the time I was finished suiting up in protective gear, I looked like I was dressed for a leisurely stroll on Mars.
A nurse led me past the cafeteria, past the chair yoga class, and into the recreation room where a group of folks played pinochle. I wore a face shield, double masks, rubber gloves, and a full-length PPE gown. I felt like Darth Vader after a wild night.
In a few moments, they wheeled my first interviewee in. Her name was Miss Baker. She was small, wiry, and sipping a Coke from a can.
“So,” she said, “you’re the guy doing interviews?”
I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Why?”
“Well, I’m a writer.”
“Oh, brother. Why on earth are you interviewing a bunch of old people?”
“Well, I was hoping for some good old-fashioned folksy advice for a column I’m writing.”
“Gee. You must be hard up for material.”
“You have no idea.”
And that was all it took. She opened up like
a refrigerator.
“Well, the first bit of advice I have, young man, is drink lots of water.”
Hydration. Check. I made a note on my legal pad.
“And make sure you always keep moving. Doesn’t matter what you do, just don’t quit moving.”
Got it.
I made a few more notes.
Next, we were joined by Watty, a 93-year-old man using a walker, wearing double hearing aids and a Hawaiian shirt.
“You the gentleman interviewing people?” said Watty.
“I’m no gentleman,” said I. Then I asked for his best spoonful of advice.
“My advice is: You know how they say that youth is wasted on the young? Well, look, I think it’s the opposite. The truth is, wisdom is wasted on the old. In my life I’ve gathered all this experience and knowledge, and you…