By Carl Sampson
I just had another birthday last month. Yep, I’m 16, and other than a touch of dyslexia I feel pretty good.
I know what you’re thinking. That’s not much of a joke, but what do you expect from an old duffer like me?
According to society at large, once you’ve marked your sixth decade on this planet, you not only disappear, but people think you don’t know anything.
And the worst part: Some other people older than 60 seem to believe that, too. We’ve all sat in meetings and everyone at the table is asked his opinion, except the people with gray hair, who actually may know something about the subject.
But that’s OK. To me, it means the pressure’s off. I can just slide through life without having to do the heavy lifting anymore.
After all, I’ve done my share of that. Probably more than my share. It’s not that I can’t or won’t, it’s just that the thirty-somethings have this delusion that they know everything.
Actually I feel sorry for the thirty-somethings. I remember when I was 30. I was writing editorials telling governors and senators – and everyone else – how to do their business, and no one could convince me that I wasn’t right, contrary to all evidence.
Now, 30-plus years later, I can see how foolish I was. In a world consisting primarily of shades of gray, anyone who clings to black-and-white is missing the texture that goes with maturity and wisdom.
Sometimes I wish there was a way to tap into the that wisdom more effectively. My mother-in-law is in her 90s. She and her husband raised 14 kids, all of whom grew up to be bright and strong contributors to society.
She has seen and done things that most people my age, or younger, can only imagine. She grew up in rural Eastern Montana — it’s all rural in that part of the country — she served in the Coast Guard during World War II, she lived in rural outposts around Alaska, and she lived through massive floods and earthquakes. Through it all, she thrived, kept her humor and gained more wisdom about life than a roomful of thirty-somethings could ever even muster.
I have an idea. I know a lot of kids these days want to go to college or graduate school. There’s nothing wrong with that. In fact, that’s a laudable goal.
But I think everyone of them should set aside time each week to visit with his or her grandmother or grandfather — or someone else with gray hair and the wisdom that goes with it.
I’d be willing to bet a doughnut that they would learn more in an hour with a grandparent than they would in a semester listening to some blow-hard professor.
Our society doesn’t respect or want what the older generation has to offer.
In my opinion, that’s society’s loss.
Carl Sampson is a freelance editor and writer.
His books are available on Amazon’s Kindle.
