I wonder if there is a certain age
where you feel free to complain about everything.
Is there a magic number you reach where
you feel the uncontrollable urge to talk about everything you do not
like no matter what it is or who is listening?
I have been commenting on the music
“these young kids listen to” for some time so that doesn't count.
There really is some terrible music out there, but then again there
was some terrible music when I was a young lad as well. But there was
also plenty of good music, so I am assuming there is some good music
coming out of the current generation – and when I find some, I will
let you know.
My dad pretty much hated everything I
listened to in my youth – and the more he hated it, the more I
liked it.
“I wouldn't give you 10 cents for
that racket,” was heard on many occasions as I listened to such
classical bands as AC/DC or Van Halen.
I am sure the generation before his
complained about the noise these young kids were listening to, so
like I said, complaining about music doesn't count because like my
father before me, I was hardly in my advanced years when I noticed
just how awful the new generation of music is.
But somewhere along the line, my dad,
like so many his age, decided to have issue with all sorts of things.
And they are not shy about letting
people know of their displeasure. Some are more vocal than others. I
knew this one little old lady who was sweet as pie, but complained
about pretty much everything all the time.
There was not much she did not dislike, find annoying or irritating and she had no problems letting those around her know of her displeasure.
There was not much she did not dislike, find annoying or irritating and she had no problems letting those around her know of her displeasure.
Many of the older set do not seem to be
able to contain their distain for something. So I know eventually I
too will will reach a point where I have no inhibitions left when it
comes to letting people know what I think of things.
And therein lies the answer to my
question: it is not a certain age where you dislike things, but you
reach a certain age where you don't care if you tell people about it.
Everyone has filters that keeps them
from acting a certain way or saying certain things and apparently the
filters on keeping your complaints in your head and not coming out of
your mouth gets so clogged with age you have no choice but to
verbalize your displease externally.
Near as I can figure, you eventually
reach and age where you don't give a fat rats butt what people think
of your opinion.
And once I realized that, I took a
close look at myself and saw I am well on my way to losing my concern
for what other people think.
I have never been overly fashion conscious, and I did try to keep my clothes at least somewhat trendy.
But as I pile on the years, I noticed I
have become far less concerned with wearing “cool”clothes or
having a certain look.
I wear what I want, when I want.
So it has begun. That particular filter
is clogging fast and soon will be of no use.
It is just a matter of time before my
'complaint' filter gets clogged and all the things I dislike about
the world spews forth in a verbal waterfall of annoyance and
unrestrained comments – just like my father before me and his
before him.
It is a right of age to sit around and
talk about “these young kids” and this and that and eventually I
plan on being right in the middle of it all.
I am not quite there yet, but am
confident when I do reach that age I will have no problem telling
anyone who will listen what I dislike about, well, everything.
Copyright 2015, Darren Handschuh
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