Cutting Old Folks Some Slack

An 82-year-old sheriff in New Hampshire refers to a black president using the N-word.

A 78-year-old NBA team owner is caught inferring that he doesn’t want his girlfriend bringing black people to his games.

A 67-year-old cowboy in Nevada doesn’t believe in the legitimacy of the Federal government, but does think blacks would be better off under slavery.

The list of old folks making fools of themselves and throwing their careers down the drain is endless—Al Campanis, Helen Thomas, Clint Eastwood. What are we to do about old people?

Obviously our nation is in a place it has never been before because old people, on average, have not been this old before—or talkative. Today, in this great nation of ours, there seems to be an old person standing on every corner and a young person sticking a microphone in his face.

Old man talking is the new dead man walking. It’s embarrassing the way we treat old people simply because they can’t talk and make sense at the same time.

Of course, old people are not entirely blameless. If they’re not going around the block for the first time—and they insist they aren’t—then perhaps it’s not too much to ask that they know something about the block. Just because they were born in the megaphone age doesn’t justify brain freeze when a microphone is placed in front of them.

The question, “What do you think about…?” is really implying, “As a thinking person with your long and varied experiences, what do you think about…?” There’s simply no excuse for saying the first thing that pops in your head. Even a five-year-old, caught in the act of misbehaving, and asked what he or she is doing, will pause to consider the consequences of the answer they are about to give.

If we are to believe the Bible—and it seems to be pretty cut and dry—Methuselah lived to be 969 years, and then he died. In all that time, again if we are to believe the Bible, he apparently said nothing worth recording—at all, good or bad, but most importantly, he said nothing bad. Methuselah should be a model for all old people. Don’t make waves. I mention waves only because there are some theories that Methuselah was still around at the time but didn’t survive the great flood.

It would be interesting to know why but apparently none of the other old folks were talking either.

The question for today’s youth—and by youth I mean anyone who is not already old—is what do we do about old people speaking their mind? My suggestion is we cut them some slack. We don’t send their rants out over the airwaves making it necessary for them to explain themselves even more; because I think we all know where that is going.

We simply nod our heads, ask them if they’re warm enough and would they like some tea. Ask them what they like best about growing up without television and what, “Mairzy doats and dozy doats and liddle lamzy divey,” actually means. They can do this and would welcome the opportunity.

And my advice to the old folks, who I know won’t take it, but I’m offering it just the same. Take a lesson from Old Man River, He don’t say nothing. He must know something, but he just flat out, no matter how many times you ask him, won’t say nothing—at all.