The Old, The Fearless, The Mean

I have had, and continue to have, many people in my life who, by age standards, are old. They have been great mentors and friends. They have taught me that doing, or not doing, something because of what other people might say or think is the greatest plight of being young. I am not saying these people are blatant assholes to everyone, quite the contrary. They are kind, warm, open, loving, and brutally honest, with themselves and others. They laugh out loud when something strikes them as funny. They sing out loud when they hear a song they love even if they are off key or in the middle of the grocery store. They wear mismatching clothes and style their hair however they damn well please if it strikes their fancy. They are far from self-centered, but they will not do anything that they do not want to or that compromises their beliefs. They are awesomely self-assured, unapologetic, and genuinely themselves at all times.

Then there were the jerks at Trader Joe’s this afternoon. Mean, cart shoving, get in your way, glare at you, old folks. While you may have less time left on this earth than I do that does not entitle you to block me from getting to the plethora of carrots so that you can leisurely paw through each bag deciding which one to select while I stare at your wrinkly hands unable to move. You do not get to park your cart in the middle of the aisle then glare at me when I say, “Excuse me.” Walking into me head on so you can keep walking in a straight line, not so great either, I don’t care if you are wearing bifocals and focused on reading the cracker package you are holding. The cutting in line, really not nice. Blatantly turning your hearing aid off when I start to say something about it, exceptionally bad manners. Be old, demand what you want, claim your space, but at least ask me to move first.


About djunapassman

I teach yoga, write, and edit. I live in a Brooklyn neighborhood that is changing faster than I can, or care to, keep up with. Manhattan still beckons me to her island a few subways stops away, reminding me of when I lived amongst her daily hustle and bustle.
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