I was parked at the Wal-Mart the other day, and saw a very very very old man walking across the parking lot on his way in.
It took him about ten minutes to get to the main door.
I thought about all the stuff he'd seen, and all the things he must know about. I wondered if he had a deep truth hidden in between his wrinkles, about something. . .perhaps he has the answer to some big world problem. .
Then I thought that when he dies, all of that knowledge is going to go into the grave at the same time he does. . .poof! . . Just like that.
Somebody should write a book and capture this, before it's gone forever.
.
I wondered about what others focus on when coming across someone very advanced in years?
Two scholars were arguing the merits of Keats and Shakespeare. They found no common ground so the Shakespearean pointed to a bow-legged old man, hobbling up the hill on his walking stick. He said, "How would Keats describe him?"
"Behold the man who yonder went, with legs so bowed and back so bent. How would Shakespeare have put it?"
"Forsooth, what manner of man is this, who carries his balls in parenthesis?"
Element 99 