Old man, you’re supposed to fade into the future with your spirits down like the summer greenery into autumn’s chilly nights. You ride your days into the next like a motion picture cowboy. You don’t listen to your creaking bones and the spirit of the aged telling you to slow down and rest. You defy Father Time as he tries to get a hold of you and mold you like he did the others of your same age. When you die, you will be scaling Mount Everest. When you meet your master in the hereafter, you will be out of breath from exhaustion from reaching up to the summit.
You are a rebel. You are prudent. You make plans for the future even when you might not be able to fulfill them. Even if you can’t, you think you can. You imagine yourself buying all the mountain climbing equipment and planning the trip to Nepal. You are a child with a bright future ahead with a curious mind and a penchant for learning new words and exploring new horizons.
Old age is for the weak and the unimaginative. If you wait for Father Time to come and take you away, he will. If you tell him to go away, he will. Whatever you do is up to you, you young old man you.