Grumpy Old Men

Hey you kids, get off my lawn!

Have you ever felt yourself going down a certain path and felt powerless to stop it? I mean figuratively of course. Your life is going in a certain direction and you�re just along for the ride.

I�m turning into the old man on the porch. Bill Cosby without the sunglasses. The guy who wakes up, sucks on a lemon, then goes out to face the day.

I�m in this cycle of work to home to vegetate to sleep to wake to do it all over again. I�ve seen it before, so have you. Hell, I�ve written about it before.

I�m bored by just about everything around me. The sameness of each day. The lack of meaningful friendships or deeper relationships. The often not-so-subtle societal pressures to do and act a certain way just to fit in. The way some people accept that and give up their individuality only to become clones of everyone else.

I�ve been musing about how I am aging out of any community I used to belong to. My wants and needs and interests and desires, hopes and dreams and plans for the future are so much different at 44 going on 45, than when I was 24 going on 25, or even 34 going on 35. Different from those who inhabit the communal spaces I used to visit, so much so I feel a stranger there.

Quality, not quantity, is what I am after now. Purpose. Connection to something greater and more significant than myself or the single activity we are engaging in. Lasting value and respect for what it takes to achieve it. Nothing superficial, temporary, or shallow. Respectful, dignified, inclusive, welcoming.

I got invitations to two birthday parties yesterday. The first, from one of the all-too-many acquaintances I have in this city came in the form of a slick email with jpg attachment, a photo with well-laid-out graphics and a web address. Surely to enhance someone�s portfolio, this invite looked straight out of a promotional package from a top PR firm. The event will be held at a new �chic hotspot� or so it claimed, with a cash bar and hors d’oeuvres. The honoree is a nice enough fellow I�ve met once or twice, but the notice read like a place to see or be seen, less a celebration of one�s birth. I�m not ungrateful for having been thought of, but I cringed at the thought of how uncomfortable and out of place I�d feel in such �familiar� surroundings.

The second announcement was more simple. An email with numerous cc�s, many of people I know, and like the sender and birthday boy, have known for close to 25 years. It was a �save the date� that even listed the day and date incorrectly, though I knew what he meant. It will undoubtedly be less formal, less showy, less concerned for which designer label is (or isn�t) displayed or how many inches hang over one�s belt. If anyone still has hair, it may have some grey in it, but no one will make an issue of age other than to respect it, not run from it.

I can see myself having a good time at this party, acting a fool around people who won�t be aghast if I do. It�s about appreciating the time we have together�past, present and future�and valuing what we really mean to one another.

And that�s what is in such short supply in my life right now. Meaningful, lasting connections to people and activities that are respectful and non-judgmental. That accept people for who they are, not for the image they can project themselves to be.

Absent these, I feel myself drifting towards the front porch, ready to watch the traffic go by.