So Long, Methusaleh!
I am about as un-sentimental a fellow as you will find, but even I cannot reflect on the subject of old age in this country without becoming quite weepy. "The witch that came, the withered hag, To wash the steps with pail and rag, Was once the beauty Abishag." In Frost we catch an unfortunate glimpse of the prevalent view of old age in the United States: a thoroughly grotesque period of decay, pathetic mumbling about past glories, and, eventually, hollow years of senility.
