One of the most interesting features of the English language, or I suppose of many other languages as well, has to do with the term, oxymoron.  The word is taken from the Greek words for sharp and dull.  The definition is a figure of speech in which two incongruous or contradictory words exist side by side.  For example, in one case we might use the term “deafening silence.”  Another oxymoron would be a “mournful optimist.”  Others would be “found missing,” “alone together,” “old news,” or, to use a term from out of my past, “awful good.”  As you can see, oxymorons have always had a special place in my mind or, if you will, in my heart.  To be frank, I don’t know what in the hell the oxymoron is doing in my heart, but there it is.
There might be one more oxymoronic definition.  That would be when the batter hits the ball out of the park and slides into second base.
But when push comes to shove, the following thought about old age is the exemplar of understanding.  The oxymoronic thought that is expressed in this sentence is a classic.  It would be, “growing old gracefully is the ultimate oxymoron of the English language.”
I would like to assure those who are looking forward to the golden years that the gold has become tin.  When asked how we are getting along, all of us oldsters can say, “Pretty good” or “Just fine.”  But the facts are somewhat different.  Growing old gracefully involves the sacrifice of the things we used to do without effort but now come at a heavy cost.  But as an example of the absurdity of a long life, I can think of no better thought than that growing old gracefully is the ultimate oxymoron of the English language.  If this thought can be successfully translated into other tongues, I suspect that the outcome will be identical.  But growing old gracefully seems to hit the oxymoron target squarely in the middle.
 
E. E. CARR
May 14, 2012
Essay 657
 
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Kevin’s commentary: Per usual, I don’t get Pop’s baseball analogies. No surprises. there.  I think this is the shortest essay we’ve had on the site to date. I wonder if the number of essays per year dedicated to aging increases as Pop ages. Once I’ve read all seven hundred, I’ll try to report back.