Page 33 - Jo Dee C Jacob Girl Scouts CEO

LIFE IS SIMPLE…MAYBE By Robert Tussey

I have the answer to that eternal question of ‘what’s it all about?’ It came to me the other day while chatting with friends. We had the
option of playing cards but chose to talk and drink coffee. We were catching up on who is doing what and where the rest of our group
was and…you know, solving for X: Just looking for sense in this life of chaos. Then it came to me; there are three distinct stages we
go through in life.
The first stage begins at a toddler’s first ‘no’ and flows into our early twenties. This is the era of statements (know it all clause, part
one). Everything we say is said with authority and bravado. “I’m going to that party I don’t care what you say.” “Gawd you are dumb.”
“You just don’t understand.” You know the drill. We are so sure of ourselves that no one could possibly understand. Our decision
process is flawed to everyone but us. Each generation gets its own music which forces their parents to say to their kids the same thing
our parents said to us and we vowed to never repeat, “Turn that noise down!” How embarrassing it is to grow up to be our parents.

The second stage is from the mid-twenties to the early fifties. This is the age of metaphor, when all that stuff we thought we knew (the
first third of our lives) is either in need of reinforcement or redefinition. And until we get good at it we use ‘like’ a lot. “You know, like,
he’s just like trying to be nice to me, but, like, it’s all a cover for his insecurities.” As we move into our thirties we lose the ‘like’ of old
and move into the prepositional phase, comparing everything to…everything. We’re telling people up front - here comes the metaphor.
This is the career and family-building age where being sharp and multitasking and running through life requires us to talk metaphorical-
ly to get our points across and create converts to our way of thinking. This stage also includes the ‘know it all clause part two’ except
now we’re still trying to make sense out of the stuff we thought we knew and refuse to back away from. “Ok, it’s like this…” Just fill in
the blanks from there. This is also the stage where parents are marginalized and their advice is as welcome as a chaperone at a pool
party.
The last stage begins in the mid-fifties, albeit slowly at first. You’ve had your family, and your career is winding towards retirement (or
at least the thought of retiring). The younger generations have taken over at work and your kids are full steam ahead into their own
existence. This is the age where you start looking for your keys. You forget why you went into the garage. It is the age of ‘I can’t
remember.’ Barring Alzheimer’s and its related cousins, the doctors say it is normal. Dang. We spent our whole lives avoiding normal
- to set ourselves apart from the crowd - and here we are, en masse, in the crowd. As we sit with our friends our conversations usually
start with, “Hey, remember Charlie, the guy with the Goldwing and the wife who, ah, what’s her name…” Or, “Did you see that movie
with what’s his name, you know, the guy who played Tarzan back in the day? Ok, he didn’t play Tarzan but wasn’t he also in Spider-
man and that hospital thing on TV?” And it goes on and on until one of us pulls out our smartphone and Google’s the answer – if we
can remember the question.
This is the age of ‘know it all, phase three’ except we simply can’t remember things that were once on instant recall. Does it matter?
San Diego Woman
Who knows. Like Aunt Ruth used to say at the age of ninety-two, “I used to know everything I knew.”

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