When I am an old woman I will always be late except to plays and movies. I will trade my alarm clock for a stick of gum. I shall walk around in crazy costumes and fantastic wigs wearing tacky jewelry and putting on airs and saying whatever comes to mind. I shall recite my favorite monologues and poetry in public places without invitation.
I will eat cheese everyday and drink whiskey and soda. I will ask strangers to let me sit with them in restaurants for company and hold captivating conversations about my life with some embellishment.
I won’t comb my hair if I don’t like, nor wear makeup, not floss my teeth but once or twice a month. I will learn to play an instrument, perhaps a harmonica. And get a stuffed monkey and a hat and play for passersby, hoping they’ll throw money in my hat.
I will go every day to a bakery for fresh, hot rolls and the occasional maple donut or bavarian creme. I will search until I find one that makes hazel bars and then I will buy every one in the shop and beg for the recipe.
I will travel the world by whatever means I can devise and make friends with strangers for the day in museums and parks and theatres. I’ll borrow money and them forget to pay it back. I’ll make collect phone calls to everyone and share my adventures with the ones who accept charges.
When you are old you can sleep in every day, and stay up late, and visit friends in distant places, and run amuck, and shop all day, and go to plays and movies every afternoon, and get on talk shows, and visit amusement parks. You can get drunk in the middle of the day and take naps and kick dogs that jump up on you.
But for now we must pay our bills and our taxes. We must be to work on time and bite our tongues. We must fill out the proper forms and act responsibly and set a good example and meet deadlines.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now, so that people who know me are not too shocked when I call them collect from Ireland.
I will eat cheese everyday and drink whiskey and soda. I will ask strangers to let me sit with them in restaurants for company and hold captivating conversations about my life with some embellishment.
I won’t comb my hair if I don’t like, nor wear makeup, not floss my teeth but once or twice a month. I will learn to play an instrument, perhaps a harmonica. And get a stuffed monkey and a hat and play for passersby, hoping they’ll throw money in my hat.
I will go every day to a bakery for fresh, hot rolls and the occasional maple donut or bavarian creme. I will search until I find one that makes hazel bars and then I will buy every one in the shop and beg for the recipe.
I will travel the world by whatever means I can devise and make friends with strangers for the day in museums and parks and theatres. I’ll borrow money and them forget to pay it back. I’ll make collect phone calls to everyone and share my adventures with the ones who accept charges.
When you are old you can sleep in every day, and stay up late, and visit friends in distant places, and run amuck, and shop all day, and go to plays and movies every afternoon, and get on talk shows, and visit amusement parks. You can get drunk in the middle of the day and take naps and kick dogs that jump up on you.
But for now we must pay our bills and our taxes. We must be to work on time and bite our tongues. We must fill out the proper forms and act responsibly and set a good example and meet deadlines.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now, so that people who know me are not too shocked when I call them collect from Ireland.