Dirty thirties? Or is it Unsturdy thirties?

I think I am going from my early thirties to my early eighties in the space of a month. Within just the last two weeks I have been shuffling around due to an old hip injury flare-up, got passed by every car on the road during a spring squall on the 215 because I was certain I was going to hydroplane out of control. And from now to the foreseeable future I will be wearing heel inserts because of a fun new case of plantar fasciitus in my right foot due likely to jogging in worn-out running shoes. So yes. Heel inserts. Meaning I have to go buy frumpy shoes that support inserts and wear them all summer.....Even in the house......I am going to have house shoes....Yes that is happening.

But this weekend at the Living Traditions Festival I saw a woman that presented a vision of old age that I can really get down with. She had fashioned a wonky hat out of a bag, a pigeon feather I am sure she found on the street, and what appeared to be some grass and weeds. She was dancing and singing and wearing bright red lipstick, tons of jewelry, and doing pretty much whatever the hell she wanted. Can't wait.