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16 April 2009 8:48am / Writer: Worm Miller / Artist: Sean Wilkin / Views: 9319804.16 Last xmas, I happened across my dad searching for his reading glasses while they were already perched atop his head, and I thought, “If I didn’t know any better I’d say my dad was stoned.” He wasn’t of course. He’s just transitioning from middle-aged into senior discount land. But more and more lately my parents have been reminding me of potheads, and it’s dawned on me… Old people are in essence stoned at all times. What used to seem like the sad ravages of age are a lot less alarming if you just imagine the person being high. Then it’s kinda adorable. Hell, I can really relate to my grandparents now. I too have walked into a room with a purpose, only to find myself standing there at a total loss of what that purpose was. I constantly forget where I put my mail, or the point of stories I’m telling halfway through. I’ll drive well below the speed limit, wondering why everyone else is being so aggressive. I’ve stared at a tree, just enjoying the look of the damn thing. I've definitely gotten obsessed with a particular kind of bread. And I love hot baths and shitty TV. I think I could have a ton of fun with my grandparents if I were blazed: rocking chairs outside, blankets on our laps, talking about how they keep their lawn so healthy. Dude, do a big ass puzzle! Or bingo at the rec! That would be amazing. I might lose them when I wanna get an assload of buffalo wings and play Mario Kart all night, but they’d probably be ready for bed around that time anyway. This epiphany has also made me realize that if old people are stoned, then little kids are drunk. Hanging with my nieces and nephew is eerily similar to showing up late (and sober) to a party. I get to hear the same stories over and over again, told with the bare minimum of sense-making at the loudest possible volume. The short attention spans and tempers. The spilling of drinks and accidental breaking of shit. Not to mention the occasional fights and passing out on the couch. It’s uncanny. Though unlike my genius plan for my grandparents, I’m not sure my brother would appreciate me getting shitfaced before I baby-sit.
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