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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=460167" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>O L D F A R T H O O D</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">No, of course I don’t…<br>I mean, who’d want to be<br>a mere two scornful words<br>in a stand-up comic’s<br>patronising patter…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘The other day, at the ticket office, <br>there was this old fart in front of me…’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">…just you wait, young man, <br>until your sciatica, arthritis and rheumatism<br>feel the cold and wet today; your<br>toupée (always good for a visual laugh) <br>has blown off, your dentures have<br>just cracked into a plastic cleft palate, <br>the battery’s just gone in your hearing aid, <br>and you left your walking stick<br>by your seat in the bus or tube in panic<br>when you couldn’t find that place<br>no longer there, where you used<br>to spend a penny…<br>and you’re hoping to clear up<br>with that immigrant ticket clerk<br>(not the best job for him, surely?) <br>which of the wildly variant twelve fare systems would apply<br>to the ticket to visit your married daughter, where<br>you might or might not stay the night…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">no of course I don’t…<br>but the camera, which never lies, <br>has lost patience with me..<br>its expensive self-focus system<br>registers ‘old fart’ – quite possibly<br>uses some built-in stock image…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and even if some prestigious<br>occasion requires a photo credit<br>and one goes to a ‘studio photographer’<br>of ever-increasing price, <br>hoping they’ll catch some firmness<br>of a feature, some line of wise concern, <br>an eye betokening a life well lived, <br>some profile signifying gravitas…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">but no…often now, <br>I see my face above some article<br>in an in-flight or a waiting-room magazine, <br>read it in self-congratulation or self-disdain, <br>think, I don’t remember writing that…<br>then realise, it’s by some other<br>identical old fart, grinning vacantly, <br>ingratiatingly, shapeless of any feature, <br>devoid of any mystery of shadow, <br>hoping that the editor<br>will remember these wise words of age..</div><div style="margin:10px 0">but no… so here’s<br>one old fart<br>issuing another…</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Michael+Shepherd">Michael Shepherd</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=460167" data-title="O L D F A R T H O O D de Michael Shepherd" data-description="No, of course I don’t…
I mean, who’d want to be
a mere two scornful words
in a stand-up comic’s
patronising patter…

‘The other day, at the ticket office, 
there was this old fart in front of me…’

…just you wait, young man, 
unt..."></div>
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