Saturday, August 22, 2015

Clogged up complaint filter a matter of time

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.
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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