I think that I think about old white men way too often. When my grandfathers died last year I began wondering how men could live into their 80s. I began wondering what Nick was going to look like as an old man, and If I would have to be his caretaker like Omi did for a few years. My dad was jealous. It seemed like the widows got all the luck. They got to spend their older years taking watercoloring classes and going on group tours to Europe. While on the other hand, in most cases, these women's husbands had spend much of their adult life providing for a family they didn't spend enough time with.
Also some of my favorite entertainers are old white men. Larry David and Woody Allen come to mind .
There are a few remnants of my grandfathers that I keep around. Pictures, a videotape my grandfather recorded in Rhode Island. I can't think of anything more precious. He taped inane things like me and max taking swimming lessons. There is this one incredible shot of him filming gorgeous 4-year-old Max on the beach, and you can see his shadow. His wide body and silly straw hat, his fanny pack and camera case. There are a few recordings of papa too. He always managed to say something silly, even if it was only for five seconds. Recently his voicemail greeting on Omi's machine deleted itself, it made me sort of upset.
I also noticed the other day, a little late to notice this I know, that all my professors are old white men. Sort of charming in their own way, lived-in, grandchildren and wives etc.Papa was a professor. Sometimes I wonder, will Nick be up there as a cute old man talking about something funny I said to a room full of 20somethings texting on their cellphones? One can only hope. It seems like a pretty nice life, if you can live long enough to have it.
