Grumpy Old Men

By G. E. Shuman
I think that, as we men age, (I can’t speak for women.) or, when we become a bit aged, we also become less and less concerned with appearances, appeal and appropriateness, as least as far as those three things abide in ourselves. We still appreciate other people’s appearance, appeal and appropriateness, but, I must ask, are ours as important as theirs? Not so much, I think. This may be simply a matter of maturing and acquiring wisdom as to what is important in life and what is not. I like to think that, as it makes me feel good. I like to feel good. Perhaps, and far more likely, it is due to our slowing down and tiring of our world of pretension and the efforts to obtain. By ‘obtain‘, I do mean the obtaining of things, but also of position, posture and power in our world. Keeping up with the Jones’s gets a bit old, as we get a bit old, (Who really cares?) and posture becomes more and more difficult. When you are fifty-something or older, sucking in your belly at the approach of an attractive younger person of the opposite sex is less than futile; it is ridiculous. You are an old dog which might as well not chase that pretty car, as you will never catch it, and would have trouble remembering what to do with it if you did. Also, at this age, the idea of attaining power is just too much work to bother thinking about anymore. Like I said, who really cares?

Personally, speaking of persons and attractions, (See the ‘sucking in the belly’ comment above.) I find myself very much attracted lately to the writings and ruminations of Mark Twain. One reason for this is that Mr. Twain’s words invariably remind me of the sayings and cogitations of my own dear paternal grandfather, Grampy Shuman. Another reason is simply that I like the man’s plain-spoken, damn-the-torpedoes style of living, and of writing. Mr. Twain said it like it was, or at least like he saw it. Lately I am inclined to not only agree with him on many subjects, but to admire, and even mimic him a bit. He was, as was my grandfather, quite aware that others might disagree with what he said, while being completely unruffled by that fact. Twain, and Gramp Shuman, had a similar way of disarming a conversational foe with the driest variety of humor, while, at the same time, destroying that person’s argument with simple facts. Over the years, both men became caring but grumpy old men, in their own ways.

Now for the bare, naked truth of the matter. In contrite confession, I must admit that I can sense, with the passing days and years, that I am feeling more and more like those two men. The proof of this is that I don’t care that I am, and am actually beginning to enjoy the idea, if only slightly.

I do appreciate most people, but in small doses and even smaller numbers, most of the time. My wife thinks that I will someday end up an old hermit, living all alone, in a dark and dank cave somewhere. She is so very wrong. My cave will be well-lit and dry as a bone. Please don’t get me wrong. My family means everything to me. I know I don’t deserve those people, would die for any one of them, and have no intention of leaving them.

Still, my position, right now, these fifty-seven years since my mother gave me birth, (No wonder she moved to Florida.) is that I am just tired. I’m not tired of life, but tired of the great mounds of never-ending stupidity that seem to accompany it. (My grandfather would have said something like that. Mark Twain actually did say: “I don’t know why God puts up with people, when lightening is so cheap.” I loved that one.) Self-centered people irritate me, pushy people aggravate me, and politicians just make me want to go out and kill something. (Sorry, to my politician-friend Michael.)

Several months ago, as my wife and I were perusing the wares of a coastal Maine gift shop, I spotted a great bumper sticker. (You know how much I love great bumper stickers.) Please don’t take this personally, as it does not apply to any of my readers. It may apply to some of my “cool” high school students. The bumper sticker read, simply: “THE OLDER I GET, THE MORE REDICULOUS YOU ALL SEEM.“ The telling thing is, I actually bought that sticker. I guess I’m earning my Grumpy Old Man degree… one day at a time. Gramp and Mr. Twain would be proud.