Thank You, Young Man

I've been wrestling with my fears of death all my life, really, since I was a child.  But (if not for dying) getting old hasn't much bothered me.

It really cracks me up that I'm now a senior.  I enjoy not giving a shit so much about what people think of me.  I'm in pretty good health, although I've had to adapt to arthritis pain and bad knees.  It's weird that there are places I can't go because there are too many stairs, but I'm getting used to it.  I'd rather read than do yard work these days, so I'm happy to limit it to a couple of hours whenever looking at the weeds or the height of the lawn drives me crazy.

One of the wild things about getting old, though, is the switch from those youngsters needing adult guidance and supervision to suddenly looking to "those young people" for help.  My children taught me to use Google when I have computer problems which I now mostly do rather than bother them.

And then there's my eternal cell phone dysfunction.  Since there's no cell tower out here in the boonies, I'm still on a land line, but every now and then I've bought one of those throwaways that drug dealers presumable use, so I'd have a cell when on vacation.  And I have recently gotten an affordable cell phone that I can use out on the road for emergencies.  If I can ever figure out how to use it.

So last night I sent out my very first text message, and hit "send" wondering if it would really reach its target.  In fact, it did, but later, when I was trying to call (like, to talk to) that same person, the damned phone kept trying to make me send a text.  Standing in front of the auditorium, trying to find out what had happened to the friend I was supposed to meet, I punched all the buttons I could think of that might magically allow me to make my call.

Of course, eventually I gave up.  I scanned what was left of the crowd, and chose two twenty-something young men and approached them for help making the phone call.  Which they quickly (and sweetly) did.  I actually just stuck the phone in one of the guy's hands, who made the call for me and handed it back.

So I just want to say, from one generation to another, "Thank you, young man."