I think that there’s something to be said for the idea of a grumpy old man stereotype. I’m trying my damndest to not be that guy, but It’s a struggle and sometimes I catch myself playing the role without having made a conscious decision to audition for the part. I’m annoyed when I catch myself in those moments, because I’d always maintained that there was no bloody way I would be that guy.
But here I am.
Kind of.
I haven’t fully been infected with the old man malady, but I do have symptoms, and I’m not sure whether to be alarmed or to relax and accept this as the natural progression of things. I think though that I’ll continue to exercise symptom awareness so that the infection doesn’t become pernicious.
So symptoms.
I think that there are only two that are presenting themselves. Lack of patience and abundance of indifference. At first I thought the symptoms were contradictory and couldn’t co-exist. But they do, and somehow I’ve managed to become apathetic and yet easily annoyed.
My patience with adults is almost non-existent, and that patience has waned considerably for anyone from around fourteen to whenever the fuck they’re supposed to become adults. But at the same time I really don’t give a shit what motivates people to test my tolerance limits.
And so this combination of symptoms causes me to walk away from people much more frequently than I did when I was younger. I think that once inflicted with the grumpy old man disorder that you’re left with only two reactions to elevated impatience. You either walk away, or go all in and explain precisely why your attention is no longer deserved. That explanation can be tedious and most likely contentious, and so I find it best to walk away. It doesn’t make any sense to expend energy on someone when old man experience has taught you that the energy expenditure is an exercise in futility.
I can’t count the number of times that I’ve tried to explain a thought to someone and halfway through the explanation realized that the effort was an utter waste of time. Grumpy old man disorder then provides the opportunity to hold one hand up, palm forward toward the subject in question and state, never mind, it doesn’t matter. Then you shake your head ruefully and turn and walk away. Perhaps at the same time mumbling something under your breath that’s inaudible.
My time is limited and I’ve grown judicious about how it’s spent, so fuck those people.
Some grumpy old people have an expansive list of triggers. At a glance it might seem that my list is relatively long as well, but I feel as if there’s one commonality to my vexations. That commonality being a determination that I’m dealing with stupidity.
Sometimes I find I react the same way to the blithely unaware, but most of the time it’s a challenge to distinguish oblivious from idiocy, and so I find that a similar reaction to both groups is appropriate.
What’s kind of liberating about the grumpy old guy syndrome is that I no longer have to concern myself with wondering if my definition of stupidity is commonly held. I don’t require a consensus from my fellow humans to make a determination to disengage, and as I’ve said, it’s liberating.
In retrospect, I owe my daughter an apology. When she was maybe about twelve years old and we were in a disagreement that wasn’t going to go her way, she would turn and walk away from me, wave a dismissive hand above one shoulder and enunciate a sarcastic valley girl whatever. I labeled this action the WAW maneuver, short for walk away whatever and then promptly banned it in our house. But here I am, using a very similar tactic.
It’s kind of disrespectful. It’s kind of a camouflaged fuck you, and it’s kind of perfect.
The difference in our situations though is that when my daughter was twelve, I held all the good cards. So, at some point she was forced to reengage because she needed me to pay for stuff and drive her around.
But right at this moment in my life I’m as liberated as I’m ever going to be. I can pay for my own stuff and I can drive myself around, and so I’ve discarded the need to suffer fools gladly. I’m emancipated from almost all undesirable influences because the repercussions from dismissing those influences are minimal. So, I tell myself that perhaps the surly senior moniker is really about exercising new options I’ve earned, and not so much about being tetchy.
Tetchy.
Tetchy is a word I had never heard before today. At first I thought it was a typo, and the word the writer was after was touchy. But nope, tetchy means touchy and irritable, and I’m thinking my stumbling across the word was a sign from the gods of grumpy old men that I’m on the right track.
As an added bonus, I like the way tetchy compliments twat. I shall add the phrase to my repertoire. I should add that twat is not pronounced twot or twaught.. There’s a distinctive ah sound applied to the A, like the a in cat.
Tetchy twat.
It has a nice ring to it.