Marcy Meffert: 'Silly' is in the eye of aging beholder
Updated 7:13 pm, Wednesday, June 15, 2011
The comments I've received since the what-to-do-without-Oprah column have me wondering why some older people think TV talk-show topics are silly, but younger audiences find them interesting and say it's consoling to learn that others are afloat in the same leaky lifeboat without a bailing bucket.
Could it be that after you are older and, hopefully, wiser, you are more likely to think that which bends younger people all out of shape is silly or insignificant? It seems to me that standards for determining silly, sillier and silliest change with age.
As a parent of five children and now a grandmother, I have seen children devastated over losing a spelling bee, not making first chair in band, not scoring highest at University Interscholastic League competitions, worried they might not have a prom date or embarrassed by having to drive a dented family sedan instead of a cool-dude car. These early angsts seem insignificant when they have to deal with the complexities of the adult world such as making a living, finding a soul mate, rearing children and caring for aging parents.
About the time you get your notice to join AARP, childhood or young-adult traumas seem silly because you have already figured out that, in the grand scheme of life, some things are just not worth thinking about. If, because of age-related conditions, you become a caregiver or the person who needs care, the challenges you face daily may cause you to think everyone else's problems are silly. Seeing people drag skeletons out of their family closets on TV talk shows seems even sillier.
We elders like to tell stories of the past even when captive audiences groan at the retelling. What if, when we deem a youthful traumatic tale silly or insignificant, we remember when, in our youth, we had similar experiences and thought they were serious and definitely not silly? Having lost spelling bees to Bridget Kucharski every elementary school year, I knew how my kid felt after such a loss and could rejoice when he won. I knew about the teen trauma of not having a junior prom date but could share my triumphant senior prom night when, instead of sipping Kool-Aid in a crepe-paper-festooned gym, I had a college fraternity dinner dance date at an elegant supper club. If my grandchildren are perplexing my parenting children, I can assure them that things will work out; after all, didn't they become good people despite my parenting misadventures?
When recalling our youthful silliness, we can assure younger folks that stuff just happens and survival is possible. The blessing of forgetfulness and selective memory that comes with age and time turns most tales of woe into lessons learned or something to laugh about that can be shared if we are lucky enough to find anyone who wants to listen. Happy Father's Day to dads who find someone to listen!