Someone’s been calling our house the past two years and we’ve never picked up. Caller I.D. shows them to be from Senior Benefits. A couple of times I thought about answering yet never did.
A former co-worker claims that senior benefits is an oxymoron just like military intelligence. I suppose those two definitions fall in line with adult children.
Exactly what benefits do seniors have over others? That’s a fair question and one that I cannot totally answer. We do get perks at certain restaurants. A popular fast-food chain here in town gives me five percent off on coffee and drinks. I’m not complaining. Doing such allows me a bit more spending loot for other venues, such as feeding a gumball machine whenever I can find one.
I find no benefit in being a senior with all the aches and pains. Hair loss and vision impairment aren’t bonuses. Our seniority doesn’t mean anything where standing in lines is concerned. I suppose some younger folks falsely believe that having handicapped plates is a senior asset.
Older people get to legally park in handicapped zones only if they have a placard, so that doesn’t automatically qualify all of us geezers. I’d much rather walk to a store from the back of a parking lot anyway. Far less people give me the dirty eyeball than they do folks wheeling into handicapped spaces. I know those drivers are carefully being watched, to see if a pronounced limp is visible after exiting a car or truck. I’ve caught myself doing the same.
AARP on occasion sends my wife and I discount cards for various companies. Aging Adults Requiring Pills is what my friend Jeff claims the four letters stand for. In a magazine article about college students demonstrating for change in government leadership, I noticed the following AARP interpretation spray painted on a Washington D.C. building: Asinine Angry Repulsive People. I prefer my friend’s more humorous definition instead.
There’ll come a day when I’ll answer my phone just to find out what Senior Benefits wants. I’m sure it’ll be a young telemarketer trying to hard sell me on life insurance, funeral services, or a monogramed HurryCane. I’ll then put to good use a senior benefit that most of us aged folks keep close at hand. It’s called sudden loss of hearing.
“I’m sorry, you’ll have to speak up. I can’t hear you!”