Bush the Elder and the Indignities of Age
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As pampered as they are, even former presidents are forced to endure the travails of old age and former President George H.W. Bush is no exception as he suffered indignities yesterday at the dedication of his son’s presidential library.
“Poor George” whom Governor Ann Richards said was born with a silver foot in his mouth, was in a wheelchair, dressed in a silly looking striped suit and ridiculous pair of socks.
This is a sick reminder of how we treat our senior citizens. Whether one agrees with the policies of Bush the Elder, there is no need to make the man an object of ridicule. Don’t we make enough fun of old guys for having their pants pulled up to their chests.
Apparently even former presidents aren’t immune from being dressed like clowns in a circus.
In testament to the good humor of the former president he was smiling in the picture. Perhaps he figured Carter,Clinton and Obama would be subject to the same treatment when they find themselves wheelchair bound. Of course his humorless son, George W. was making his unforgettable “I’m the decider. Screw you” face.
Remember, we all get old, except those who don’t, and but for the grace of God and respectful wives and children, that could be us in the silly outfit.
My rule is when I can’t wipe my own ass it’s time to pull the plug. My new rule is when I have to trust someone else to dress me pull the plug then as well.
I know I’m a Catholic, which is a rarity around MadMike’s place, but sorry Your Holiness, compared to a dirty ass and silly wardrobe, euthanasia doesn’t sound so sinful.
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Sigh. I can’t wipe my own ass NOW, and I can’t reach my feet, much less decide what socks I’m wearing but I’m FAR from ready to be dead! Be extremely careful what you say in your living will, and how you say it! My mother had a DNR, and my father has said that he wants no feeding tubes if it comes down to it, but you have to examine all sides before you decide!
Glad you’re with me on this one Les. We’re not far away from some sick and disgusting smartass from dressing us in silly socks.
Your living will instructions look like my Dad’s Norman.
I intend to make a living will soon and it will say :
When I can no longer wipe my own bottom or enjoy a beer or four or enjoy a good woman or cope with a hot chicken vindaloo curry it is time to sign off.
I will never wear pink socks!!!!!
No pink socks!? Not even on Gay Pride Day?
I thought maybe old GHWB had changed teams.
Being a married staunchly heterosexual bloke I have a pink t-shirt I wore on the last ‘gay pride day’ in England but don’t tell anyone – it’ll ruin my reputation 😉
Ruin your reputation? Do you mean more than now?
I am shocked/astounded/gobsmacked!
😉 😀
Sick dude, simply sick and disgusting. Buff said…
If you look at a bigger photo it looks like HW is wearing polka dotted socks to do the matchy match thing with the Big Dog. The ties are also very similar. Maybe they called each other up night before like I used to in high school, to see what the friends were going to wear so we could coordinate. Why yes, I am such a girl I know this and I embrace it.
I have enough pain medication from a bad horse riding accident a couple years or more ago, I could off myself more than once if or when things go south for me. I fully intend to move to Oregon for retirement, so I can make use of the Death with Dignity laws there. Had my heathen memorial service also planned since college, after the cancer diagnosis and we did not know if I would come through it 100%. That way, any of my left behind people know EXACTLY what I want and don’t want.
Too, Too funny, Joe!! I say the same thing, if and when I can’t wipe my own butt please just shoot me 🙂
I have no problem being a burden to my children as they have been a burden on me. But only as long as I can wipe my own ass.
Dying with dignity is the only way to go. Call it what you want, it’s my choice and when the pain gets unbearable give me that special drink to send me to a permanent lala land. Except for a couple of states and a couple countries in Europe we’re stuck doing it ourselves.
I agree Rick. A friend of mine is fond of saying life invariably ends badly, and I suspect he’s right.
Life always ends in death. The best we can hope for is to make it as less horrible as possible.
Fortunately, I live where my veranda is over 50 feet above a paved parking lot. In less than two seconds it can be over.
I have always agreed that no one else has the right to tell you when it’s time to cash in your chips and leave the game.
No one can “feel your pain” nor can anyone know the mental and physical distress of anyone else. Perhaps if we could be truly telepathic, but that has yet to happen.
In the meantime fools say silly platitudes like how much worse other people have it. Does that reduce your problems at all? All it really does is help the the person feel smugly superior as they tell you how you’re “just being silly” or “you’ll get over this.” Bullshit! When I know it’s time to go, I’m going. There is no way anyone can stop me.