A Little-Known Tip About Growing Older

I did not say a little-known tip about growing old. I said OLDER. You will become your father, or heaven forbid, your mother.

My actions of late can be attributed to my father. I make noises when I sit. Mostly farting. Grunting/groaning as I get up. You know. That “Uuuuhhhh” noise you make when you rest into the couch for the evening. Snoring while the TV is on, followed by a loud snorting mumbly “IWUZRWATCHINGTHRAT” when someone turns the TV off.

I complain about things that I used to laugh about. (“The volume is not too loud on the TV!” or “It’s on at ten o’clock. I’m not staying up that late.”)

I don’t plan my day around Matlock, which my dad did in later years, but I have seen every episode of Blue Bloods at least ten times, which still gets me thinking that Tom Selleck belongs in a Hawaiian shirt on the beach, not in a suit in New York City, chasing bad guys.

I remember my Hawaiian shirt. Thinking about it made me pull out an old family album. Somehow the thought of me in that shirt looked better in my mind than it did in the photograph.

I looked at other pictures. There are no words. If I did not have low enough self-esteem, these photos did not help.

The Decades of My Wardrobe

I was a child in the 60’s, but there I was with my frayed bell-bottomed jeans, tie-dyed shirt, and love beads (come to think of it, that is pretty much what I wore last Saturday).

The 70s showed my hair turned from long and straight into an afro. Looking at a gawky fifteen-year-old with large hair is not pretty. (Here’s a piece of advice, never feel nostalgic and look at a family album around your teenage sons, they will never let you live it down). It was supposed to be a symbol of rebellion, pride, and empowerment. As a Jewish teen from the South Shore of Long Island, the only rebellious side I ever showed was crying when my mother drove me to Hebrew School.

No hat for me but two buttons only!

Remaining a glutton for punishment I continued page turning until I came to the 80s. It was 1982 and my dad was wearing a blue leisure suit with the standard white belt and shoes. My sister had seriously “big hair,” and there I was with my bigger afro, in my rust colored suit, and Huckapoo shirt, left over from the 1970s, unbuttoned more than buttoned. (Oh, you don’t remember the Huckapoo.  Allow me to refresh. They were fitted polyester shirts that often had a very busy pattern).

As time goes by, we remember growing up and specific family events. We remember the times and the laughter more than the outrageous way we were dressed. Oh, we remember the clothes, just not as vividly as an old photo does.

I have to stop; not just because the 90s were in the next album or I was left wondering how I ever survived until now. But because I am left thinking, not necessarily what a dork I was (am?), but when we look at pictures of people from years ago and their style, as I laugh along with everyone else, it is important to remember that the person taking the picture and the people standing around us and the entire universe for that matter was looking just as silly and maybe when these successful people look back at old family albums and reflect through their years, they too think, “what a loser I was.”

Still have that shirt. Quality never goes out of style!

But back to my original point. The good news is, I do not wear those plastic shoes or black socks that run-up to my knees. But in conducting some research, I found most of our interactions are unconscious. For the most part, people start acting like their parents and start inheriting attributes from them when we’re infants and toddlers. Our brains are programmed by our caregivers to act and behave in the world. So, it starts much younger.

Chances are if you are like me, you’ve spent the majority of your life trying to prove you’re nothing like your father. You’re far more laid back. Your ideas are progressive, and you have a better outlook on the world. But then you realize you’re starting to remind yourself more and more of your old man. EEK!

Signs you have become your father

But it’s not necessarily a bad thing. After all, he is the guy who raised and ultimately made you who you are today, right? So, before you go swapping your sensible sedan for a midlife crisis corvette, keep in mind there are some qualities you may just be happy to inherit. Others, we can’t really guarantee. So, Matlock aside (and I know if my dad were here today, Matlock would take a back seat to Blue Bloods), here are some more signs:

You tell Dad jokes:  Like this one, for instance: “Why do chicken coops only have two doors? Because if they had four, they would be chicken sedans!” Or this: “I had a dream I was a muffler last night. I woke up exhausted!” Both of those were always good for a laugh when my sons were in elementary school.

The trips to Home Depot are now for fun: You’re excited to make a run to Home Depot or Loew’s. You used to have to go there, now not only do you know where all the departments are, you’re even starting to give employees a run for their money. 

Your wallet is overly stuffed: I take you to George Costanza and his exploding wallet. Do you really need all that cash and the gas station receipt from a rest stop in New Jersey?

You’ve become the keeper of electricity: Growing up, your father would turn off every light switch he’d pass. “Do we have stock in LILCO?” You have a newfound appreciation for this duty now that you’re in a house of your own. You think these people have no appreciation for money. “Do they think it grows on trees?”

Your music tastes have changed significantly: It was and is Springsteen and U2 but Sinatra and the Big Band sound and the whole classical sound of Beethoven? Nice  What is going on?

Honorable Mention goes to falling asleep on the couch in front of the TV, snoring, with drool slobbering down the side of your mouth, finding bars too noisy, and watching golf on TV.

But don’t worry. Your ideas are progressive, and you have a better outlook on the world. Starting to remind yourself more and more of your old man? Maybe it’s not so bad.