On Becoming An Old Girl

A friend reminded me that my birthday is coming up. I hadn’t really been thinking about it much. Probably because the business of just getting through the days lately has been a difficult proposition. But it made me think.

On the 26th of this month I will turn 47. I remember when I thought 30 was old. Now that’s funny. Because I now find 30 to be so damn young.

Now. Some of you may recall this. Or be familiar with it. Despite your youth. Or your dotage.

“Never trust anyone over 30.” Although Jerry Rubin is credited with the phrase. The credit actually goes to Jack Weinberger, a civil rights activist who coined the phrase in 1964.

I have a new spin on this phrase. Never trust anyone under 30. Time and again I have been proven right in this thought. Children will always act as children do. And, frankly, some children are just plain mean. They don’t “get” it yet. All of life is about them. (Please note that I am speaking from experience and in generalities – It’s not 100% perfect). But as I search blogs, read what people have to say in social rooms, hell, even while I play the occasional game of poker, I have begun to see an alarming trend of young men and women with very little social conscious. And manners that make monkeys throwing poo look downright charming.

Some of you kiddies need to get familiar with a stop-check. Before you post something, read it. If it’s all about you. All about your needs. All about hate. Any of these things? Put a lid on it junior. Because it ain’t going away. It’s going to be floating out there in cyber space long after you're gone. How would you like your grandchildren to read the hate you spewed forth one day?

We can’t all love each other. That’s a fact. But hating in the plural is unacceptable and ugly. Grow up. Show some manners. And remember that you reap what you sow. That’s the gift I desire for my birthday. A little civility. A little kindness. And a whole lot of shutting the fuck up if you have nothing good or meaningful to say.