As I was walking my 55-pound dog yesterday, I noticed an older woman with a cane waiting to cross the street to my side. A construction truck slowed down and waved her across, but she shook her head no. She knows she is old and slow.
The truck passed, and I reduced my speed so that we wouldn’t meet each other at the entrance to the greenbelt. I figured that would be me someday and that she didn’t want Pepper’s wet nose anywhere near her.
As she crossed in front of us (about five feet away) she said good morning, and I answered back. I don’t know her, she doesn’t know me, but we are both from generations where people, strangers, greet one another as they pass. It is a courtesy that we extend to those within our community.
I am a Medicare senior. Most people with dogs will say hello unless they are a Millennial, glued to their phone as they sort of walk their dog. It’s walking while scrolling in fits and starts as they find something on the small screen that is more important to them than looking at nature or giving their pet a brisk outing.
Millennials don’t look up, and I’m wondering if that’s a skill set they never learned — how to interact with strangers. If it is, then society is in big trouble. After we oldsters pass away and are gone, what’s going to hold the community together?
I saw a young woman once in a shirt that said, F*&^k you, a$$hole, and I wondered why she was so angry, who sold her the shirt, and why she felt comfortable wearing it in public. I get that Millennials are angry, with the cost of everything so ridiculous, most of them can’t even dream of owning a home. Instead of saving, they buy expensive coffees, avocado toast, and shirts that insult those who read it. Maybe the shirt is a California thing? Probably not.
When old people fall down and need help, we old folks step in to help them. It could have been us and might be someday.
I’ve had some young adults do nice things for me, like the guy on the Boston subway who saw me with a huge suitcase, ready to climb the stairs. He didn’t know it was empty, that I was taking it home from my daughter’s first move-in her freshman year at Tufts. He grabbed the bag and sprinted up the steps, handing it to me when I finally made it to the top. I was an old mom (57) when my youngest went to college.
I’ve had a younger (forties?) CVS employee grab items out of my hands at self-check-out when I was trying to learn how to do it, and instead, they did it for me. Okay, I was slower than they were, but you’ve got to give us a chance to learn, or we’ll always need your help. We want to do it ourselves, so teach us instead of grabbing our stuff. That woman doesn’t work there anymore. Yay.
I’ve reached 500 words. In conclusion, let me just say, “Good morning.”
FIRST DATE, WORST DATE EVER! 