I flatter myself that I am improving with age. This morning’s Wordsmith offering from the fabulous Anu Garg of A.Word.A.Day was ‘crepitate’–one of my very favorites, thanks to the also fabulous S.J. Perelman‘s introducing it to me in the context of one of his typically scintillating, outrageously funny tales. I was reminded that crepitation refers to the creaking cracking popping grinding and other percussive noises of dusty old age, and that, not at all surprisingly, Perelman used it in self-deprecatingly hilarious description of his own antiquated joints as he gave what one must assume was–despite his stated intent of dash and panache–a dance demonstration to his date that was more rusty than rakish. Having done the requisite amount of damage to my own human machinery over the years by falling over and off of things, lifting things I had no business hefting, and in turn, turning, squeezing, smacking and otherwise torquing various portions of myself just enough more out of sync and syncopation that it’s remarkable if I only creak and don’t fall into syncope or crack up altogether.
So, whether dancing or just shuffling my slippered way around the hallowed halls of home, I consider myself very fortunate only to ‘boop, whoosh, queel and grake‘ like another of my pantheon of fabulous wordsmiths, James Thurber‘s, old family car, and not to simply disintegrate wholly on the spot. Grey hairs? Bring ’em on! (Best color of hair I’ve ever owned by nature, as it happens.) Wrinkles? Oh, my, yes. Smile creases are only a badge of honor reserved for people who’ve had long and happy enough lives to earn them. Aches and pains will generally come and go, with more of the comings than the goings as time passes and I forget to accommodate my crepitude a little, but by golly it beats lying around and dissipating into a dust bunny of boredom.
And honestly, lots of things get more beautiful not just in spite of but because of their evident age, so why shouldn’t I give it a try?
Art-Colored Glasses 
In the lovely Iowa cemetery where my parents lie, there also is the grave of the fellow who owned a real “garage” for decades. He could fix anything on the face of the earth, saved parts as though they were solid gold and did, in fact, have inscribed on his tombstone: “Rust in Peace”.
Ah, excellent!! At the rate I’m going, I may be destined to Rust in Pieces. We’ll see how it all turns out!
My daughter told me your first image looked like a city made of lava. Which is kind of appropriate for the relentless, fluid dance of time. And they creak, these mountain and fragile plates of land; their crepitations shape our world 🙂
Wow, leave it to Danica to see such a wonderfully imaginative content in that picture. Cool! You’re right, too, of course, as I know quite well from living through various degrees of earthquake and volcano over the years, thanks to Mts. Rainier and St. Helens. 🙂
I totally agree with the advantages of aging, especially when compared to the alternative. Lovely rust photos, but then again I’m a sucker for good rust photos!
Me too! Always had respect for beautiful decay. And yes, winding down is far preferable to not living long enough to do so. 🙂
I rest peaceful in the fact that I have decided to stop colouring my hair and age gracefully with the ever more present silver strips that pop out of my head and the laugh lines are also very welcome. HOWEVER, I am battling with the body that seems to be getting floppier and fatter – what ever happened to my toned arms and legs – now they are all lumpy – very unattractive. Oh well, 2 our of 3 ain’t bad for now.
Beautifully written and photographed dear Kathryn!
🙂 Mandy xo
Oh, yes, I *do* know exactly what you’re talking about; my body has grown substantially squashier over time. I’ve determined that I’m going to reverse at least a little of that, so we’ll see how my modest regimen of better-exercise + better-eating works over time. Meanwhile, my gracious spouse still compliments me and loves me as-is, so I’m ahead of the game as far as my vanity goes. 😉 My recent garage-cleaning exercise certainly helped me to both get my body in motion and sweat off a couple of pounds, since it’s still well into the upper 30s here. Now that that’s mostly clean I’ll have to find some other more rigorous DIY projects around the place, I suppose!
xo
K
Lovely set of images!Crepitate! I must remember that word!! All my bones makes all sorts of noises 🙂
The word itself just *sounds* creaky to me. So much fun! But may all of us keep our bones and joints intact for as long as possible! 😉
What an excellent word, crepitate….Enjoyed the images that accompanied the post and like you, have those grey hairs and wrinkles of a life well lived….Thanks, I really enjoyed your post….
So happy you enjoyed it, my friend. And yes, I do (obviously) think ‘crepitate’ is just a dandy word. It’s like eating potato chips just to say such a crunchy word, but less fattening. 🙂
Oh, I’ve accepted the signs of old age creeping into my world. I really have. I just don’t need to be constantly reminded as I currently am. My parrot learned to groan when I was recuperating and though I’m fine now, the slightest noise I make when being seated, getting up, or walking about is met with a groan from my Lucy. ((sigh))
That Lucy! What a comedienne. Or is she just being mean? 😉
Thank you for this post from your most humble, ‘crepitated’ follower…
Long may we grow wrinkly together! 😀