Rosalie Ham on the small joys that matter more as you get older

Read a piece written by Look After Your Feet author Rosalie Ham.

Things change, yet stay the same. Take for example our recently deceased street Bin-fluencer. We know he’s dead because his son puts the bins out now, same time, same placement as his father, alerting the street to recycling that day. 

In some suburbs, no matter how ancient you are, if you’re not dressed nicely people will cross the road to avoid you, but in my suburb, I can wear a birdcage and glass boots and still get ignored, which is generally freeing. But if you’re lucky some well brought up person will notice you on a crowded tram and relinquish their seat. Lips crinkle so that they look like paling fences, but I still like to wear lipstick. If I make an effort my posture is better. It’s not really necessary to wear a bra (not many of us run), but because Zoom is not something we employ, we get to attend appointments. These outings are social occasions to modern building where respectful security guards give informative demonstrations of automatic doors, swipe cards and lifts that have no buttons. Receptionists draw red circles around address, date and time on referrals and pathology requests, and will even supply public transport advice if they’re REALLY good. Because people assume we’re deaf, they speak clearly and give lucid instructions.

Professionals love us because we were there on their first day at the clinic, and older people’s diagnosis are often comfortingly predictable. To get my money’s worth out of my 15 minutes, I arrive with a list.

TIME: Ironically, futures diminish, but retirement means there’s more time. You can waste hours and feel no anxiety given you’ve been achieving for 60+ years. I’m on lots of mailing lists so can research leisurely to purchase good (concession) seats at blockbusters. 

Life is cheaper; dining out is fulfilling after only an entrée and two glasses of wine while takeaway Thai chicken and noodles can last three meals. Depending on the mix with medication, one piccolo can make a quiet evening thrilling. Shopping is quick; we only buy a few groceries at a time and $2 shops/landfill shops, are satisfying – we don’t need to buy things to last 10+ years. 

I’ve ceased feeling guilty stopping 4 lanes of traffic at pedestrian crossings, and some of the clothes I’ve stored for the time I lose that extra 10 kilos are now fashionable and can be sold on Marketplace. I have lots of shoes because painful feet are a legitimate excuse to buy them.

Since the instructor’s focus is on the young fit clients, exercise class is a relaxing, and Ubers drivers like us. If we are erratic or obnoxious, they assume we’re demented so treat us with patience. 

Youth and beauty are one, and so even if the grandkids don’t pay you much attention, is lovely being there … just keep your hip flask in your handbag and take it to the loo. They’ll assume you’re incontinent rather than tippling.

If your kids are nice, they’ll phone you while they’re driving or waiting for under 14 basketball to finish. You can shoot the breeze or ask them technology questions. Sometimes this results in a visit to get you back to the Netflix homepage. You’re allocated the front seat of the car while your DIL sits with the kids. I love them all, I just prefer a better view.

Oldness is a great equaliser. Ultimately, a lot of wisdom is just opinion, and it ages, as do people. Those who fall the hardest are those who took themselves too seriously and behaved as if their success would always be relevant. And it is, if you’re the street binfluencer.

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Look After Your Feet

by Rosalie Ham

An irreverent look at the darkly funny experience of getting older from one of Australia's favourite authors.

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