Ever Get Old?

Did you ever get old? I did. After spending a lifetime, laughing at the old man on the porch, as he screamed “You kids, get off my lawn,“ I got old. Somewhere along the way, I lost an innocence that I miss. I slowly and persistently lost mentors and guides. I find myself at the end of the road with rich and fond memories of a trip. Yet also many questions.

Vibrant youth that I was, I aspire to such promise, exuberance, and enthusiasm. That young man honestly believed that the world had gone astray, but that it could be brought back on course. Naïveté suggested that the retirement of bad apples would inevitably lead to better replacements. A lifetime of advertisements inevitably heralded a new age. They suggested that things could truly be “new and improved.”

I so often hear from peers my age that the world has changed. I hear “these kids today.“ I hear stories about the way things used to be and oftentimes struggle to remember the world from the perspective of the rose-colored retrospection with which I am presented.

Baz Luhrmann wrote about the sentiment aptly in what has come to be known as the Sunscreen Song (1999, label unknown). It offers such nuggets as "floss," "stretch," "travel," and "be kind to your knees." There is humor in the Luhrmann piece, but so much wisdom. The brilliant parts include:

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth, oh, never mind

You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth

Until they've faded,

Don't worry about the future

Or worry, but know that worrying

Is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing Bubble gum

Do one thing every day that scares you

don't be reckless with other people's hearts

Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours

Don't waste your time on jealousy

Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind

The race is long and in the end, it's only with yourself

Remember compliments you receive, forget the insults

If you succeed in doing this, tell me how

Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much

Or berate yourself either

Your choices are half chance, so are everybody else's

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your own

Do not read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly

Get to know your parents, you never know when they'll be gone for good

Be nice to your siblings, they're your best link to your past

Understand that friends come and go

But a precious few, who should hold on

Accept certain inalienable truths

Prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too, will get old

And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young

Prices were reasonable, politicians were noble

And children respected their elders 

Be careful whose advice you buy but be patient with those who supply it

Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past

From the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts

And recycling it for more than it's worth

I find truth and wisdom there. You may find nothing at all. But I notice there is a population of humanity that struggles with the ultimate goal of progress. They are all about progress and things being "better."

A great challenge in that regard is that we might all define that word differently. I have come to rely by default on two geological terms, which I find descriptive and imperative. One describes the taking away (erosion) and the other the accumulation of (accretion). Philosophically, as society shifts, one person's accretion will be another’s erosion, and a postural perspective is both inherent and unavoidable.

I have been privileged along my path to meet a fair few incredible people. An even smaller subset I refer to as friends. Unlike the current generation and their expansion on the meanings of "friends" and the social media engendered unfamiliarity, my definition would be somewhat constrained.

There have also been a very few whom I have admired for their real dedication and purpose for progress. Among them have been several whose definition of "progress" I certainly cannot condone, or perhaps even comprehend. But their sincerity, intellect, and dedication are beyond doubt.

In all respects, the population of those whom I hold close is small. The vast majority of people are simply enamored with, interested in, and committed to, things that I cannot understand. In the initial draft of this post, examples were offered, but in retrospect, I found them Unhelpful, potentially hurtful, and unnecessary.

As I stand here near the end of a somewhat long road, I question whether I can really see the end, or whether that may just be a curve ahead. As with all things, I can perceive the road behind with far greater clarity than I can predict the future. But I focus on today, and the perceptions of my fellow geriatrics regarding the future.

I was honored in September 2023 to be invited to preside over a mock trial round at the DOAH Trial Academy in Tallahassee. This event was sponsored by the Administrative Law Section of The Florida Bar and the Division of Administrative Hearings. It has provided many opportunities for passing wisdom, advice, and nostalgia.

I was exposed to various young people. I was privileged to see them, interact with coaches and pedagogues. Some were better prepared than others. Some were quicker on the uptake than others. Some were more articulate, polished, and able. In a word, they were diverse. And at the end of the day, in so many regards, they were no different in their strengths and weaknesses than any other population that has ever entered this profession.

Among them are likely great leaders of tomorrow. There were the stalwarts and those cautious of the daily grind. There were cynics, kidders, and climbers. Each of them likely holds great promise in some particular or another. Each also has the inherent human propensity for atrocious errors and mistakes. My point is not to wish them ill, but to acknowledge that while they certainly are no worse than we were, they are as certainly no better.

If your inclination is to sit on the porch and scream at these folks, I would suggest that that’s more about you than it is about them. If you believe that, somehow, you lack the time, temperament, or tools to help them, I would suggest that you are wrong, misguided, and mistaken.

It’s easy to sit on the porch and scream. It’s utterly unproductive, unhelpful, and unflattering. Regardless of whether you have spent your life striving to better the world around you, to merely make money, or to help people individually, you can deliver value to the next generation.

If you are wondering whether you perceive the end of the road ahead, or are even questioning, it is undoubtedly in you to find a way to pass on some of what you have accumulated (accretion) to someone who can benefit. In the same mindset, perhaps you can help someone with their rough edges (erosion), and in the process not make them you, but help them make themselves.

Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past

From the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts

And recycling it for more than it's worth

In any event, listen to the Sunscreen Song from a generation ago. You will find something there worth thinking about.

Find a moment to lay in the grass and stare at clouds. 

Visit someplace that brings memories.

Eat foods you know you should avoid, and smile while you do it. 

Stop for a moment, now and then, and smell the roses. 

There is value there if you seek it.