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Time, time, time -
Having dinner with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
catsonmars last night, I am reminded that we often have to add a dimension to discussions we have about people, places or things - that, of time, plain and simple.
Biologically? Oh sure. I'm old enough, he's young enough - he was born right around the time I graduated college. I've met his Mom - she's less than 10 years older than me.
We were talking about the Olympics in Los Angeles (Did you know we're up for bid for the 2012 games? I didn't.) in 1984 - he has baby pictures, I have total gripes. (I had been laid off the week before they began and couldn't attend a single event due to poverty...and couldn't even LOOK for another job until they were over. Suck, is what that's called, and I remember it well.)
And then we effortlessly shift to interpersonal trash-talking, and I get to brag about my catch in spouses - in comparison to someone of my same age group having less luck (and I've had both kinds, so I have plenty of sympathy).
Somehow, the age difference disappeared. Yeah, it exists - to explain how I ended up having more Life experiences. Just that, and that alone. It's so nice to be able to talk without it sounding like some kind of contest, to be honest.
And that's all. He knows a shitload more than I do about a lot of things (the music he brings over just one of them), and that's not any issue at all either. (I'm grateful, you want to know the truth.) It's nice - to find there is more than one way (besides the conventional 'beat you over the head with it' method) to approach the whole 'being significantly older' thang. It's the equivalent of a shrug. *whew*
My age is the one thing I can do nothing about. I can work harder, I can study and learn new things, I can practice and improve skills I already have. I can put more money in the piggy bank. What I can't change is how many things are stored between my ears (and I have a reasonably good memory, which doesn't help here), and a ready eagerness to share them. I can't tell you how much time and effort I've been spared by someone telling me something I didn't have first-hand experience with...that's how that I operate. I do as I've been taught, and as I was given. It's called cheating in some circles, in others it's called money from home. In others? It's turned into bitter competition as it was perceived as boasting. More often than I care to mention, and equally bewildering in the bargain.
What a relief. I got to point out a whole band of Red Hats during Art Night last week - (not the kind that immediately jump to mind, pity) - the kind that are fashioned after the old saying "when I grow old, I'm going to wear purple...with a red hat that doesn't go." You see these guys coming, run the other way. They are nuts. They're also having a blast - and it was a moment when there were people who were older than all three of us that night that we could, as a group, go whooo about.
It's tricksy, this mid-forties thing. You think everything is done before you're thirty, you're not paying attention. Trust me on this one. I can definitely do better in how I present that information (being too forthcoming with it has been a huge problem in the past...I'm hip), and if I sound like it's all just as easy as falling off a log and no big whoop - because I've done it - I haven't done a good job of giving that information out, pure and simple.
I still have some growing up to do. I'll get better at it - but thank the Maker for people who act as touchstones and practice grounds. Quite by accident.
catsonmars last night, I am reminded that we often have to add a dimension to discussions we have about people, places or things - that, of time, plain and simple.Biologically? Oh sure. I'm old enough, he's young enough - he was born right around the time I graduated college. I've met his Mom - she's less than 10 years older than me.
We were talking about the Olympics in Los Angeles (Did you know we're up for bid for the 2012 games? I didn't.) in 1984 - he has baby pictures, I have total gripes. (I had been laid off the week before they began and couldn't attend a single event due to poverty...and couldn't even LOOK for another job until they were over. Suck, is what that's called, and I remember it well.)
And then we effortlessly shift to interpersonal trash-talking, and I get to brag about my catch in spouses - in comparison to someone of my same age group having less luck (and I've had both kinds, so I have plenty of sympathy).
Somehow, the age difference disappeared. Yeah, it exists - to explain how I ended up having more Life experiences. Just that, and that alone. It's so nice to be able to talk without it sounding like some kind of contest, to be honest.
And that's all. He knows a shitload more than I do about a lot of things (the music he brings over just one of them), and that's not any issue at all either. (I'm grateful, you want to know the truth.) It's nice - to find there is more than one way (besides the conventional 'beat you over the head with it' method) to approach the whole 'being significantly older' thang. It's the equivalent of a shrug. *whew*
My age is the one thing I can do nothing about. I can work harder, I can study and learn new things, I can practice and improve skills I already have. I can put more money in the piggy bank. What I can't change is how many things are stored between my ears (and I have a reasonably good memory, which doesn't help here), and a ready eagerness to share them. I can't tell you how much time and effort I've been spared by someone telling me something I didn't have first-hand experience with...that's how that I operate. I do as I've been taught, and as I was given. It's called cheating in some circles, in others it's called money from home. In others? It's turned into bitter competition as it was perceived as boasting. More often than I care to mention, and equally bewildering in the bargain.
What a relief. I got to point out a whole band of Red Hats during Art Night last week - (not the kind that immediately jump to mind, pity) - the kind that are fashioned after the old saying "when I grow old, I'm going to wear purple...with a red hat that doesn't go." You see these guys coming, run the other way. They are nuts. They're also having a blast - and it was a moment when there were people who were older than all three of us that night that we could, as a group, go whooo about.
It's tricksy, this mid-forties thing. You think everything is done before you're thirty, you're not paying attention. Trust me on this one. I can definitely do better in how I present that information (being too forthcoming with it has been a huge problem in the past...I'm hip), and if I sound like it's all just as easy as falling off a log and no big whoop - because I've done it - I haven't done a good job of giving that information out, pure and simple.
I still have some growing up to do. I'll get better at it - but thank the Maker for people who act as touchstones and practice grounds. Quite by accident.
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I hate when I do this, but....sometimes I feel this way with Kerri-Anne. She isn't that much younger than me, but enough that we know there is a difference sometimes.
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Frankly, I don't think 50 is going to be anything like what I expected. And that's a good thing.
Getting Older
A friend and I have been spasmodically wearing purple and red hats, but neither one of us like the idea of having to conform to club rules, so we just shift along!
You're right, lots of younger people (and there are more and more of them!) just don't seem to think I have anything worth while or even interesting to say. Of course, they don't care about what I'm thinking; boy, if they only knew.
On the other hand, I do have friends who have not even reached 30 yet. Good heavens. they are really avant garde--they want to hear what I may remember about all sorts of things--some of them long before I was born, but they also like to hear what I remember my parents or grandparents saying about those things.
It seems to me that the younger generation, those under 45 or so, is much more tolerant than the over 50's are. Maybe it's because I'm not competition for the younger ones, while the older ones still think I'm in the same game they are.
I do think the generations are getting a little better as they come along. My 6-year-old twin grandsons are much more fun than most 60-year-olds I know! Also, they are willing to have intelligent conversations about just about anything, and willing and courteous to go with or help Grammom do interesting things that the oldsters are not ready to go or do.
I'm much happier now that I'm older. Being young was not a lot of fun. Now, I can be outrageous or whatever I feel like being. Hallelujah!
Ymmv, of course.
Lots of love and hugs to all the sweet kids out there, whether I have met them or not yet.
Grammom
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you know...
I think the powers that be had a nice laugh when they sent my boyfriend my way.
tonight, I had to explain who Michael Gross (the actor) was:
Me: (upon seeing his picture on the TV screen) "Oh, that's Michael Gross".
Him: "Who? Him?" (points to screen)
Me: "Yup. He was in 'Family Ties'." (no reaction) "you know, with Michael J Fox"
Him: "Wasn't he a little nerdy brainiac guy on that"?
Me: "yup. Michael Gross was the 'father' on the series."
That made me feel old.
everything in perspective, I say.
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But it is really apparent when I hang out with this guy from my hometown. I am 40 and he is 20. Sometimes we are buds and on the same wavelength. Other times, there is a definite father/ son vibe.
Isn't that the way it should be? He gets some of my lame wisdom, and I get to see him rev up for his life.
And sometimes? I get to cook for another Cajun that just... understands.
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From my POV, I grew up in a community where 90+ was common, and all of my friends were at least twenty years older than I was (probably why so many of my twenty-something friends are no stretch at all, and a total pleasure to boot) - so that "older and wiser than me" vibe was a comfort, not a trigger.
Oh, I get the understands part. Totally, completely and ain't it wonderful when it happens.