I caught myself laughing at some kid the other day, who wiped out on his skateboard because his baggy pants fell down. He went down hard and hit his noggin. I laughed as I walked by and thought to myself, serves him right for dressing like a moron. Then I remembered walking downtown San Francisco one day with my Dad. I was about 14 years old, wearing neon yellow hip-huggers and an orange and yellow ribbed, poor-boy style shirt. A lady—apparently from out of town looked at me, shook her head and mumbled something about “The way these people dress here.”

My dad looked at me and shrugged his shoulders. I can’t remember what I felt, but since I remember the incident some 45+ years later, it clearly had an impact. I realize now, I was being judged without her knowing anything about me. She didn’t know that my mom had been sick for years,  that I took care of my sister and brother, that I cooked and cleaned and played nursemaid almost every day of my life and  that I shouldered more responsibility than most 30 year olds. – No, she didn’t know that at all.

 I shouldn’t have laughed at that kid. I should have just asked him if he was okay. I acted like an old fart—and I am mad at myself for it.

There is a lot to be said for life experience. We (old people) share our unsolicited advice at every turn. Romance advice (which I failed miserably), education advice, (an incomplete here), health (well- I’m alive at least), wealth (double fail). Honestly- what makes me think I’m so smart? Why would I think I know any more about life than some 15 year old?

With my son, I constantly remind myself, we all have our own path. He has his lessons and his burdens, his own joy and his own grief. You can’t tutor someone through life 101A. Not even if you have completed Life 101B. So why do we always insist on trying?

The old saying, It’s not how old you are, it’s how old you feel, is true enough, but it’s also how old you act. When you start poo-pooing everything the new generation comes up with and start thinking your generation was the only one that had it right- you are without any doubt at all- an old fart.

When you look at someone with tattoos and shake your head, and say something like kids these days. You are an old fart.

When you start to say things like- in my day we didn’t need car seats for babies– you are a stupid old fart.

When you forget your own youth (misspent in many cases) and start hating teenagers just because they are teenagers, or because they have long hair, or baggy pants, or rings in places you don’t want to know about… you are an old fart.

You can dye your roots and lift your sagging skin so high that you can tie it in a knot on top of your head, but you’ll still be an old fart when you open your mouth.  

I have to confess; I have thanked my son on numerous occasions for not dressing like a moron and for walking like a man and not some missing link with something stuck in his behind. I’m appreciative that he was a relatively easy teen – easy, mostly because I have a good memory and there was nothing he did that I hadn’t done ten-fold. I need to remember to keep that same perspective with everyone.

I’ll continue to dye my roots, and try to keep my body in working condition—but it’s my attitude I’m going to concentrate on. I can’t fight the aging process, things will sag and stretch and eventually fall apart, but I plan on remembering things the way they really were and try to look at things from younger eyes.