For the past 12 or 15 years, I have been a friend of Gregorio Russo.  Gregorio works in the produce department of the Whole Foods Market.  In the former location of the Whole Foods Market, he was the first person who came into view as you entered the market.  Now that market has moved to much larger quarters and I have to search to find Gregorio Russo.  The old arrangement, from my standpoint, was much superior.
Gregorio was born in Italy, somewhere south of Naples.  He told me that when he left home to come to this country, his father offered only one piece of advice.  It was, “Don’t grow old.”  Gregorio arrived in this country during the Vietnam War and was promptly drafted.  I suspect that there were times when he thought about his father’s advice about growing old and wondered if his life during the Vietnam War would end much too soon.  But he survived that war and has gone on to become the senior worker in the produce department of the Whole Foods Market.  On many occasions after meeting Gregorio, I have told him about the imaginary bonuses that the American Army gave me.  Gregorio usually says that when he had a break in his work schedule, he would go down to see if the American Army had a bonus for him as well.  The fact is that I left the Army in November of 1945 and the American Army has unfortunately paid me absolutely nothing.  But it is fun to needle Gregorio on the subject of imaginary bonuses paid by the American Army.
Gregorio has told me about his father’s advice about not growing old.  As time has gone on, I have come to appreciate the wisdom of that advice.  For one thing, growing old is an expensive proposition.  For example, the handyman who runs Taylor Home Repair was here this morning.  He was called to nail down a rug that had threatened to trip me on two or three occasions recently.  This is only one occasion in which old age and  disabilities have prevented me from doing the small jobs that I used to do myself.  The fellow from Taylor Home Repair has to be paid.  So it is clear that growing old in defiance of the elder Russo’s maxim is expensive.  So Gregorio Russo’s father did not finish his sentence.  He should have said as his son departed for these shores that growing old would involve considerable expense.
There is a secondary consideration on the subject of growing old.  Aside from the fact that the repairmen must be paid, which I am glad to do, they tend to clutter up the house.  Their truck is usually parked in the driveway and accommodations such as offering coffee to the workmen are also involved.  Simply put, in the old days before age overtook me, I used to do this work myself and saved a respectable amount of money, which was unforeseen before I grew older.  But that is the price of growing old.  The men who come here to do these small jobs are inevitably very nice fellows.  But I would have preferred not to have called them.  That is not a choice.  So growing old is expensive and the workmen clutter up the house.  So if the father of Gregorio Russo is still alive somewhere in southern Italy, he should add this admonition to his advice.  He should say that growing old is inconvenient and expensive, and that the workmen invited to do the jobs that we used to do clutter up the house.
Now about the title of this essay which is “Too Soon Old.”  The rest of that maxim is, “Too soon growing old, too late growing smart.”  I assume at this point that you have been convinced not to grow older.  It is expensive.
E. E. CARR
July 18, 2012
Essay 677
 
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Kevin’s commentary:  It seems to me like Pop befriends Whole Foods workers on a rather regular basis. Accordingly I feel that the barbershops, departments of motor vehicles, etc which he no longer patronizes are probably missing him in recent years. If, for whatever reason, a Short Hills Whole Foods employee ever makes his or her way to this blog, I encourage him to comment on this state of events, or on really anything at all.
I’ll also record here, for nobody in particular, that the rugs in Pop’s house are positively vicious, and that simply nailing them down is in many cases too good for them. Here I am specifically thinking of the red rug in the dining room, upon which I have been slipping more or less my entire life, despite possessing my full visual faculties.
Screw that rug.