Watching our favorite celebrities grow old can often be a strange thing to witness. Perhaps it’s because we see them steadily aging with every role, maybe it’s just because it reminds of us of our own mortality.
In any case, a recent sighting of Clint Eastwood certainly caused a stir after he attended a speaking event hosted by conversationist and primatologist Dr. Jane Goodall.
Frail Clint Eastwood is seen in rare public appearance
Clint Eastwood’s still going strong at 93! 
Posted by Daily Mail on Friday, April 12, 2024
The event reportedly took place just a few weeks shy of Clint Eastwood’s 94th birthday. The location was the Sunset Cultural Center in Carmel-by-the-Sea, the city where Eastwood used to be mayor.
The legendary actor stepped out in a blue checkered flannel shirt, with gray slacks and sneakers, with long white hair and a bushy white beard.
Now, we hardly feel the need to say that Eastwood actually looking his age is nothing shocking, but there were a deal of people online who were taken back by the actor’s frail appearance.
One person wrote: “He’s unrecognizable! […] Age has obviously slowed him down just as it will most of us.”
“Aging is just so cruel,you’re a legend Clint,” another added.
“Is he ok omg!! He needs grooming help!” a third said.
“He should have at least shaved and gotten a haircut. He still looks strong though,” a fourth opined.
There were others who had nicer things to say about Mr. Eastwood, but the general feeling was one of surprise as to how he looks now compared to, say, just a few years ago.
As mentioned in the beginning of the article, the Million Dollar Baby legend is still working, with filming for what is expected to be his final film, Juror No. 2, having started last year.
“I love what I do,” Eastwood said in 2018. “I’ll probably keep on going. I feel good, but it depends on material. I probably wouldn’t do something just because it was marginal–I have to kind of think it has some validity and has some relationship to today. With a lot of other people, was it that their health went bad or did they just get bored with it? I often wonder, because I haven’t gotten bored with it.”
Let us know in the comments if you’re a fan of Clint Eastwood!
MY LATE GRANDMA’S NEIGHBOR ACCUSED ME OF HIDING “HER SHARE OF THE WILL” — WHEN SHE REFUSED TO LEAVE, I GAVE HER A REALITY CHECK.
The morning sun, usually a welcome sight, cast harsh shadows on the woman standing on my porch, her face a mask of indignation. Mrs. Gable, Grandma’s “entitled neighbor,” as she so lovingly referred to her, was a force of nature, and not a particularly pleasant one.
“How long am I supposed to wait for my share of the will?!” she demanded, her voice a grating rasp that could curdle milk. “My grandkids are coming over, and I want them to take their part of the inheritance before they leave!”
I blinked, trying to process the sheer audacity of her statement. “Mrs. Gable,” I said, my voice calm despite the rising tide of annoyance, “Grandma’s will… it doesn’t mention you.”
Her eyes widened, then narrowed into slits. “Nonsense! We were like family! She wouldn’t leave me out.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, “but everything in the house now belongs to me.”
I offered a small concession. “I’ve packed some boxes for donation. You’re welcome to look through them, see if there’s anything you want.”
“Donation boxes?!” she shrieked. “Your grandma was like family to us! We had to be mentioned in the will. Give it to me! I have to see for myself.”
“I can’t do that,” I said, my patience wearing thin. “The will is a legal document.”
She planted her feet, a stubborn look on her face. “Then I’m not leaving. I’ll just stand here until you give me what’s mine.” She proceeded to stand directly in front of my porch, peering into my windows and muttering under her breath.
I sighed. This was getting ridiculous. I needed to give this woman a reality check, a gentle but firm reminder that she wasn’t entitled to anything.
I went inside, grabbed a pen and a scrap of paper, and returned to the porch. Mrs. Gable watched me, her eyes filled with suspicion.
“What’s that?” she asked, her voice laced with distrust.
“I’m writing you a bill,” I said, my voice deliberately casual.
“A bill? For what?”
“For services rendered,” I said, scribbling on the paper. “Let’s see… ‘Consultation regarding inheritance, one hour… $100.'”
Mrs. Gable’s face turned a shade of purple I didn’t think possible. “Are you serious?!”
“Perfectly,” I said, adding another line. “‘Unauthorized surveillance of private property, one hour… $50.'”
“That’s outrageous!” she sputtered.
“And,” I continued, adding a final line, “‘Emotional distress caused by unwarranted demands, one hour… $150.'” I handed her the paper. “That’ll be $300, Mrs. Gable.”
She snatched the paper from my hand, her eyes scanning the ludicrous list. “You can’t do this!”
“Actually, I can,” I said, a smile playing on my lips. “And if you don’t pay, I’ll have to add late fees.”
She crumpled the paper in her fist, her face a mask of fury. “You’re just like your grandma!” she hissed. “Entitled and selfish!”
“Perhaps,” I said, “but I’m also practical. And I value my peace of mind.”
She glared at me for a moment, then turned and stomped off the porch, muttering about lawyers and lawsuits. I watched her go, a sense of satisfaction washing over me.
Later that day, as I sorted through Grandma’s belongings, I found a small, velvet-lined box tucked away in a drawer. Inside was a handwritten note, addressed to me.
“My dearest grandchild,” it read, “I know Mrs. Gable can be… persistent. Remember, you owe no one anything. Your happiness is your own. And sometimes, a little bit of absurdity is the best way to deal with entitlement.”
I smiled, a warm feeling spreading through my chest. Grandma had known exactly what to do. And she had left me the perfect tool to handle it. I had learned a valuable lesson that day: sometimes, the best way to deal with entitled people is to meet their absurdity with your own. And a little bit of humor never hurts.
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