I miss the old people from when I was a child - they're different now

This may sound strange, but I miss the kind of old people we had when I was a child. I don't mean that I miss specific old people that I knew, like my grandparents. I miss them terribly, but that is not what I mean. I do also miss my long term babysitter who came here from Austria with her husband in the 1930s. Her name was Ottilie "Ottie" Oldenbusch, believe or not, and she was 65 when she started babysitting me. She had just retired from working at Bell Labs and did something to do with Physics. Why she wanted to work as a babysitter after that will forever elude me. Nor do I know what her husband, Heinrich "Henry," another wonderful soul whom I shall remember for the rest of my life and I'm almost tempted to say, beyond that. What do I mean? I don't know.

But that is not what I mean. I mean that the old people of my childhood, the kind you saw in line at the store or walking along the sidewalk, waiting for a train, buying a newspaper, seem so different now from the swinging seniors of our era. Of course that only follows because old people are only older versions of the people whose lives, characters, habits, beliefs and preferences were formed in a particular era, and as our culture continues to change rapidly and drastically each generation when it ages will become a distinct type of senior citizen. Some of the Boomers are still aging hippies or perhaps aging hipsters, people who still want to keep up with the times, be active, not give up any of the things they did when they were younger. Why should they? If they are still healthy and they have the free time and the free will they can do whatever they want, still learning and growing and rocking (thinking Mick Jagger and The Crypt Keeper/Keith Richards.) It has gone out of style in our society to grow old. You don't have start wearing baggy cardigans and glasses on a chain around your neck. You can do yoga, wear tight jeans, ride a motorcycle, play the electric guitar, blah blah blah.

So this isn't to knock anyone over 65 today. But I feel a terrible sadness and nostalgia sometimes for that generation who were my introduction to "The Elderly" in the 1970s. The men wore topcoats in winter, and formal hats year round - homburgs, fedoras, Scottish golfing caps, dress shirts and slacks, jackets, black dress socks and shiny black or brown leather round toe shoes which they still had shined at shoeshines which could be found around town or at the bus station. Old men often carried a newspaper under one arm and quite a few of them smoked pipes. That's one thing you never see anymore! Thought it will probably come back with the hipster 1800s hair-and-beard trend. If you can vape, you can smoke a pipe. You don't have to tell me the dangers of tobacco. I've been hearing it longer than you! I used to hide my mother's Carltons when she still smoked. Luckily, she gave up when I was 11. And I have known since I was 4 that I would never smoke. BUT...I still have nostalgia for cigarette smoke. It was everywhere back then. Older people smoked even more than young. And I still find it distinguished and a bit rakish when I see an old photo of a man smoking a pipe (usually standing out on the moors or somewhere.)

Elderly women had their hair done "at the beauty parlor" which consisted of setting it in multiple curlers around the head after dampening it with smelly lotions, then sitting under a giant space-age hair dryer for a long time. The hair came out defying gravity. These ladies always wore lipstick and were not ashamed to fresh their lipstick at the table after eating a nice meal in a restaurant. They wore heels and made sure their jewelry matched - earrings, necklace, rings. The purse had to go with the shoes. These women were prepared for anything, hauling around an entire pharmacy, lockpicking kit and sundry other gadgets and secret information in their giant handbags. They drove automatic cars and had different outfits for different activities. Much of that was true for me as well as a child. I had one set of clothes for school, another for play, and then a couple of fancy outfits for parties. You had to dress up for other children's birthday parties in your best dress and tights, and usually a pair of Mary-Janes.

Elderly women believed that babies needed fresh air and walking every day - people wheeled their babies to the park in giant old carriages. No jogging wheels for these! Maternity clothes were discreet, not fashionable. Meals were formal, eaten together at the table and no one I knew had a microwave.

When it was cold or rainy or windy at all, elderly women of my childhood always wore scarves around their hair to keep it from getting messed up. If it were rain, some would wear translucent plastic headscarves. When they went on trips they took guided tours and bought matching luggage, all in medium blue leather or garish 1970s tartan. This was when there were a lot more plane crashes than now and also it wasn't unexpected that the airline lost your luggage. I grew up thinking that you were simply rolling the dice if you checked a bag, and I turned into the kind of adult who only travels with a carry on if possible. One dressed up for air travel, in a dress and heels, as one did for the theater.

When I think of the ultimate 1970s "old man" I immediately picture Art Carney in Harry and Tonto (1974), one of my favorite movies of all time. Harry was feisty, spirited, didn't let people push him around, but he also always wore a tie and had old fashioned manners, and a certain stoicism in the face of hardships. He was also very funny. And although she was hardly the archetype of a "little old lady" I remember the "funny, classy broads" like Ruth Gordon, who was always dressed to the nines, wearing her jewels, hair done, smoking a cigarette in a holder, and also boozy and loud and completely outrageous!

When I watch old footage of 1970s street scenes or the poignantly named British Pathé film "Old People" (1970) I feel a terrible stab of loss when I watch an old woman in her proper coat and head scarf feeding the pigeons at the park, an old gentleman walking along the pavement with the aid of a carved wooden cane. That whole world is gone forever.

Well, not sure where I was headed with this. This is my first attempt at a still inchoate feeling-memory. I will probably have to rewrite it and crisp up the details, maybe eventually coming to the point, or any point. But thanks for listening.