Welcome to Old Man Summer
Just lean into it, like falling asleep on the porch after a scotch on the rocks.
Hi friends!
It’s been an eventful week here in America for both old, white men and the cable news voices that indoctrinate them. On Monday, notoriously unhinged media patriarch Rupert Murdoch, 92, kicked off the jamboree by firing Tucker Carlson. No one seems to know the exact reason why Carlson was fired, but one theory is that Murdoch did it to get back at his ex-fiancée — a woman who he was engaged to for two weeks last month — so that’s what we’ll go with. This was a win both for Murdoch, who got to be unhinged, and the old man community at large, who got to spend the beginning of the week either fuming or rejoicing over cable news drama, their Young & the Restless.
By Tuesday, the grandaddy of them all, President Uncle Joe Biden, 80, had officially thrown his hat in the ring for a second term. Like, why? Isn’t he tired? I’ve been so tired this week and I have no responsibilities and at least half my youthful life force left. I don’t understand how anyone could make it to the promised land era of being old — when it’s finally socially acceptable to just lay in bed in a billowing white nightshirt — and decide to keep being America’s president instead? Embarrassing.
Then, on Wednesday, I saw this pic of Jeffrey Bezos, wearing butterflies at Coachella, and yes, he’s merely 59, but that’s 93 in festival years. Reportedly his crazy ass shirt cost $12 on Amazon so he’s also wearing his own merch. Slay.
Three is a trend and I’m calling it now — opinions are over unless they’re your own, ill-advised but confident decisions are in, we’re thinking we’re still relevant when the literal masses insist we’re not, we’re ignoring all consequences, and we’re wearing whatever the fuck we want — this year we’re having an Old Man Summer.
Old Man Summer is the mindset we’ve been waiting for. No longer will we worry about looking hot; we can just look however we look and hit on anyone who crosses our paths. We will unapologetically be ourselves, and those selves will be wickedly stubborn and get their way. We’ll just be having a good time, eating dinner early, traveling in compression socks, blaming everyone else, and taking no prisoners. Who needs to be a bad bitch when you can be that bastard?
I don’t care that Don Lemon (RIP) thinks I have maybe 10 good summers left when Biden insists that he himself has at least 6. It’s all very inspiring, really. Let’s rewrite the rules of aging for everyone. I’d like my prime to start somewhere around 72 — some of us are just born to be wizened old bags of wind and this summer the journey begins!
Sure, it’s infuriating that these old dudes are holding power longer than ever and doing absolutely nothing to keep the planet viable for the rest of us. Or that we have to put up with the dissonance of a rapidly evolving world still being led by the same old guard because they refuse to retire. I truly don’t get it. I have been wanting to retire since 2015.
This summer I will be embodying the gravitas and confidence that comes with being the absolute top of the food chain. And while I don’t expect to be handed the same opportunities or have my new attitude received with any graciousness, I do know that a little nap feels nice.
Our time will come. Until then, see you on the golf course.
Less Lessons More Blessin’s™️
Liz
Brilliant 😂👴🏼