Senile Delusion

 

 

“Christmas comes but once a year, and when it’s gone, I jump and cheer.”

It has been a few years since I said this, mainly because they finally agreed to cut right back on that ridiculously excessive present giving, and also after my wife admonished me for acting like a miserable old curmudgeon and a wet blanket. Now that I don’t have to endure two hours of Father Christmas handing out the gifts, and the unwrapping and oohing and aahing over the trinkets, I am better able to appear affable and interact with the company once the ritual is over.

On this last occasion, I accepted another beer and went out onto the terrace, where a brother-in-law, Jack, was talking to one of the niece’s partner, George. I suppose he is called her partner because they have been living together for several years, and that makes him more than a boyfriend but not quite a husband. He was saying to Jack that he was surprised at how full Pearly Beach was this year, and how many new houses had gone up.

“Yes, there are a lot of people moving to the Cape as the rest of the country falls into ruin and the unemployment crisis worsens. These ANC monkeys are incapable of growing the economy.”

“Be careful how you use the m word,” I said as I joined the conversation. “One of the youngsters could be videoing us, and what you say could go viral on social media. You don’t want to be had up for hate speech.”

He just snorted and took a drag at his beer. George also lubricated his throat, and I followed suit prior to mounting my hobby horse.

“Talking of the unemployment crisis, it is clear that no one knows how to solve it. But I have been giving it a lot of thought, and I have come up with a possible solution.”

“I didn’t know you were an economist. I thought you used to be a house builder before you went under?”

I was tempted to say, ‘Fuck you, Jack,’ but instead continued with my grand proposal. “The way I see the situation in South Africa is this. There are millions of people hanging about doing nothing other than scratching for enough food to keep themselves and their families alive. Most of them are semi-literate, but many are moderately well educated and even qualified, yet they are all without work, even though they are desperate to find employment. Now, I ask myself, is there nothing for these people to do? The answer comes back loud and clear: there is more than enough to keep them busy for ever and a day. Just look at them sitting on their arses in front of a dilapidated RDP hovel or an iron and cardboard shack. What’s to stop them building themselves a proper house, for starters?”

“Money. It costs a good half million to build a half decent house.”

“You’ve hit the nail on the head, Jack. Money. If people had access to money they would get to work. So, why don’t we print the money and hand it out, in a strictly regulated way, and start a building boom that would get the economy fired up and create thousands of jobs?”

“Oh, for God’s sake! If you started printing money and handing it out to all and sundry, it would become worthless in no time.”

“As I understand it, it is called debt monetization, and it is what the US and other developed countries do when they need to stimulate their economies. Remember quantitative easing, and how the banks were bailed out in the financial crisis? So why can’t we do the same?”

“You don’t seem to understand the fundamentals. You can’t compare this banana republic with the strongest economy in the world. The US has more than four trillion dollars of debt, but they can still continue to issue bonds because investors have confidence in the financial health of the country and its ability to keep inflation under control. The dollar remains the dominant currency in the world. If we started printing money to finance our fiscal deficit, the rand would crash. Argentina has tried this stunt several times, and on each occasion it has resulted in hyperinflation and the collapse of the peso.”

“Yes, but if we extended credit to the por in order for them to acquire a fixed asset like a properly built house, it would not only improve the quality of millions of lives, it would create a huge demand for related goods and services. The economy would be given a massive boost, tax revenue would pour in, the rand would strengthen, and investors would clamour to get in on the boom.”

Jack drained his beer, and I could see from the look on his face he was in no mood to pursue the conversation.

“I, for one, would be dead against what you are proposing. I would rather stay with the status quo, unsatisfactory as it is, than risk hyperinflation and the almost certain collapse of what’s left of the economy. At least under the present situation my pension and investments are moderately secure. Now I must rejoin the company and leave you to peddle your crackpot idea to a younger audience.”

“He doesn’t seem to share your idealistic vision for the future, Uncle,” George, the niece’s partner said, once the old fart had buggered off.

“No, Jack comes from a social lineage that has produced, through selective breeding, individuals like him who have lost the traits of altruism and idealism.”

“Interesting that you should say so. From a sociological and psychological perspective, that is. The two of you are of a similar age, I believe? That makes you baby boomers, many of whom, in the 60’s and 70’s, were fired up with youthful rebelliousness and a desire to change the world, for the better, of course. Now, what interests me as a Sociologist – you know I teach at UJ? – what interests me is how most of your generation have given up on activism and utopian dreams, and have become more pragmatic and conservative. The responsibilities that come with earning a living, bringing up children and providing for the future give them a deeper understanding of the complexities of social and political change. On the other hand, there are individuals like you, Uncle, who retain a sense of outrage with the world’s problems, and see ongoing and new injustices as a reason to continue the battle to bring about change through radical ideas and actions.”

I drained my beer, and he hurried inside to get us each a fresh can. While he was away I looked out to sea and thought about the direction in which this young fellow was leading the discourse.

“Yes,” he said on his return, “I was saying there are some elderly people who retain their youthful radicalism and stick to their idealistic world views, and you fit into that category. But, the question arises, is there something more to your posing of simplistic solutions to major problems than just a desire to see a better world?”

“Simplistic? Alright, let’s let that go. What else could be motivating me?”

“The insidious deterioration of physical and mental capacity associated with old age. . In my PhD, I focussed on Gerontology, which is the …”

“I know what Gerontology is, damn it! Do you take me for an ignoramus?”

“Not at all, Sir. Far from it. Anyway, studying the effects of advancing age has provided me with valuable insights into the behaviour of old codg… I mean, old men like yourself and Uncle Jack.”

“You know, I find it mildly demeaning the way you are examining, analysing and categorizing me. It feels a little dehumanising. But no matter; it’s interesting. And I could subject you to the same scrutiny. You millennials exhibit behaviour that comes across as neurotic, obsessive and antisocial at times. You are slaves of the computer and Internet age. But, be that as it may,, continue with your explanation of why we old folks carry on the way we do.”

“Thank you. As you move into your sixties and seventies, and especially after retirement, there is a growing tendency for you and other elderly individuals to respond to constant reports of disasters and conflicts with utopian ideas and unrealistic solutions. This can be seen as a coping mechanism related to aging and the sense of diminished agency. As you grow older, you feel a heightened awareness of your mortality and a desire to leave a positive impact on the world.” He paused to wet his whistle. “I hope I’m not boring you with all this text book stuff?”

“No, it’s food for thought. Carry on.”

“Right. So, as your perception of decreased personal agency due to physical limitations, retirement, or reduced social roles, can prompt a focus on grand, sweeping solutions that might seem beyond reach to younger generations. This may provide a sense of hope and purpose, allowing you to feel you are contributing to discussions on global issues despite not being directly involved in decision-making processes anymore.”

“Well, put like that, I sound rather pathetic. What you are saying is that my debt monetization proposal can’t be taken seriously, as it comes from an old man with diminished faculties who is trying to delude himself that he still has something valuable to contribute and should be taken seriously, and not dismissed as useless, irrelevant and superfluous.”

“Don’t worry about it. As  you have pointed out, no generation is safe from the Sociologist’s dispassionate gaze. We all have to develop coping mechanisms. Formulating grand solutions to the world’s problems is just one in your arsenal. Another common strategy with the elderly is to rewrite history, or, in other words, put a different spin on the retelling of past events.”

“Ah, I think I know what you mean. I have picked up this idiosyncrasy with Jack. When he talks about past events or relates an anecdote he casts himself as the central character who is in charge of the action and plays a more or less heroic part. I have caught him out, on more than one occasion, altering facts in his narrative to such an extent that it becomes pure fiction. I suppose it helps him deal with the painful truth that his life was unexceptional, and there is no prospect of him ever making a mark.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I had in mind. It’s all to do with the awareness of declining physical and mental vitality. The elderly become increasingly less active, their joints wear out and need replacement, their eyesight and hearing are compromised, their memory iss unreliable, their ability to learn new skills diminishes and technology leaves them behind and results in feelings of frustration, alienation and powerlessness. Furthermore, as a man becomes more decrepit, his libido wanes and, instead of accepting this as a natural process, he dreads the onset of impotenc and seeks medical assistance through the prescription of drugs designed to treat patients with clinical dysfunction. This often results in further misery for both him and his spouse, who resents him making a nuisance of himself.”

He looked at me and raised his eyebrows. Damned impertinence! There was no way I was going to be drawn on this topic.

“Do you have a bucket list, Uncle?”

“A bucket list? No, I am too poor to have a bucket list. But I know a few contemporaries who are able to tick off several items a year. I suppose you see it as another coping strategy?”

“Exactly. As people retire and enter their later years, they become increasingly aware of their mortality, and they reassess priorities and unfulfilled aspirations.”

“It strikes me they draw up the list and keep adding to it in order to delude themselves they are staying ahead of the biological clock. I know one couple who spend at least half the year travelling to exotic destinations, one after another, and each time they come back it’s as if they get into a panic because they might suddenly age and become too old to embark on the next adventure.”

“That may be so, but travel is not the only way to feel a sense of achievement. Learning a new skill, or even another language provides cognitive benefits by keeping the brain engaged and reducing the risk of mental decline. Have you ever thought about writing your memoir? It wouldn’t cost you anything, and it could be most beneficial.”

“Hell, no! That would depress the shit out of me, sifting through all that rubbish. A litany of wrong choices, foolhardy enterprises, disgraceful personal conduct, bad luck, embarrassing blunders and missed opportunities.”

For a moment he looked a little daunted, and I realised, with some irritation, he had been trying to encourage me to adopt a more sanguine outlook with regard to the dwindling time that was left to me.

“Well, maybe a bucket list isn’t for you, Uncle. But for many it is a psychological tool for managing the approaching end of their days, and they find meaning in an enhanced quality of life. It helps old folks shift their focus from loss to fulfilment, from regret to action, and from routine to excitement. It ensures that the final chapters of life remain rich and purposeful”

“You know something, George? You would make an excellent motivational speaker. If you ever tire of Academia, you could make a decent living by going on a speaking tour of lifestyle and golf estates as well as old age homes and retirement centres.”

He found this funny and was about to reply when his partner, the niece, and one of the granddaughters came out to join us. I ran a lascivious old eye over breasts, rumps and expanses of beckoning young flesh. An initial rush of delight was soon replaced by searing pangs of envy, regret and bitter resignation. Not for your gaze, old man. I muttered something about my weak bladder and slunk back into the house. Maybe another beer would help me delude myself that old age wasn’t such a kak story after all.