The Wiser Side of 60

A timeless collection of interesting, humorous, and insightful stories about growing older and becoming wiser. Makes growing older seem like an adventure. Written by award winning author Bob August.

"Insulting Elders"

Our vacation recently was marred by an unpleasant incident. It s sad how thoughtless people can be to citizens of mature years.

My wife is always the one who registers for us at motels. This time when she came back to the car I could see she was troubled.

All she d asked was whether we could get the senior-citizen s rate, which she d never asked for before. The man behind the desk had no reason to be rude.

What he might have said was, "You mean your parents are in the car and you want to register them?" That would have been nice.

Or he might have said, "Lady, you re going to have to show identification, because if you re a day over 45 I ll eat my hat." That would have been warm.

Or, being a bit jocular, "You ve got to be fooling! I thought you were one of the kids here for the baton-twirling contest."

He didn t say any of these things. What he said was, "Certainly, ma am. Just sign the register and you ll get the rate."

My wife brooded about it.

"He never even asked for my date of birth," she kept saying. She was born nine months after I was but looks much younger.

People usually say to her, "Don t tell me you re past 60. I can t believe it."

She may answer, "Don t give me that," but embarrassment over the flattery is never beyond her capacity to endure.

Then she runs into this yo-yo at the motel and is deflated for a week.

However, young people keep being thoughtless. Recently one got up on a crowded bus and gave me his seat. Imagine!

As a student of urban manners, I know bus seats are yielded only to women carrying three shopping bags who are seven or more months pregnant and then only near the end of the line. Or to those of either sex who look as if they are breathing shallowly and are in danger of slipping away before the next stop, which would inconvenience everybody. My category was obvious.

Not only did the young man offer me the seat, he called me "sir."

I sat down, but I m still depressed.

When they start being polite to you, there can t be much time left.