I NEVER want to get old.

The NY Giants are going to put me in an early grave anyway so that should halt the suffering and pain of aging.

I am presently in Florida. My perspective on aging has changed radically since Monday.

I must admit that most of my prior time spent in the sunshine state has been on the beach, in our lovely home, at restaurants and at the Boca Town Center or strolling Palm Beach’s Worth Avenue.

I have never seen the seamy underbelly of the suffering  geriatic set. Standing in the pharmacy line at Walgreen’s proves a vivid reality check.

It is not a pretty picture. What I have witnessed the past few days is very sick, unsteady Freddie’s who have very little money and are completely dependent on Medicare…for all those who don’t give a damn about keeping that government subsidy running, think again.

These poor people are in desperate need of medication and their only means is through the government sponsored program.

Fortunately, my mother and her friends have savings, but once you hit the point where doing every day activities becomes an effort, you have to switch priorities to day care (life goes full circle…the elderly become children), overnight help, medication, oxygen tanks, walkers, wheelchairs. The shopping list is endless and not very sexy.

Everyday, I have to take my mom to the wound center for her antibiotic IV…she mainlines Cubicin for one hour. Her fellow inmates can barely walk, smile or converse. She looks 75 compared to the rest.

The hallways look like the California freeway at rush hour…bumper to bumper wheelchairs.

I have to sit vigil in the waiting room and I want to kill myself. The furnishings are so depressing. The walls are bright pink and the Christmas tree makes Charlie Brown’s look like the Rockefeller Center holiday tree.

I strolled outside yesterday and realized that the circular plaza contained a Cornea and Refractive surgery office, Oncology clinic which was packed, Geriatric specialists and the Wound clinic. Holy shit…this is way worst then the last 2 NY Giant losing seasons. What a way to spend your golden years which my mom has been know to say, “suck!”

I wish I could round all these folks up, have an open bar and a DJ and bring some happiness and excitement to their lives. They all look so miserable.

I am kicking my mom’s butt, stuffing her with great food, dragging her infected leg to rehab therapists, getting her hair done and making her believe that she can return to her old self.

In the meantime, I need a vacation as my hours are 6am to 8pm, 3 meals a day, 2 snacks, grocery shopping, house cleaning, wound pick up and delivery and daily lectures on how to keep those spirits high.

Speaking of spirits, I have become intimate with my bed and a bottle of red, but before that I walk 4 miles and swim 50 laps. From what I can tell, the best hedge against staving off old age is being fit once you hit that mark.

Enjoy every single damn day. Peace out.