Just For Old People

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Sunday, October 25. 2009

You can hear the funniest things when you’re out in public eavesdropping on the conversations of others. It’s one of the reasons, possibly the best reason, I like doing things alone. I’m not distracted by a conversation I’m having with someone so listening to others talk is easier.

My friend John is a good walking and dining companion because we don’t talk much which is nice because then I can turn the attention of my ears fully to those about us. As you may recall, about six months ago he and I were walking around Lake Miramar and we caught the conversation of two joggers, a man and a woman, and the man was dumping his girlfriend (his fellow jogger) while they were running. Bet the young woman wished she could run a lot faster during that little chat.

At breakfast today (Sunday) John and I were casually seated at a table in Mimi’s. He and I didn’t chat much but the table behind us, with the hot MILF, two teen girls and one tween girl, were a veritable chattering box! Sadly, no conversation of any great interest. If mom hadn’t been there …
 MILF? I ain’t splainin’ it.

This is funny and it involves a snippet of conversation from high schoolers on the Number 7 bus that runs past San Diego High School. So anyway, I had been relying on my Trusty Trek and public transit for about seven months and had lost a lot of weight. Consequently, I didn’t have a belt that would cinch tight enough to keep my pants from falling down.

The Number 7 was always crowded with teenagers when I was riding it, on their way to or from school. Teens are a boisterous bunch, not really mean or intentionally rude for the most part — there are always the little punks trying to prove something, but most people, including their friends, find them offensive.

So there I was, on my way home after work, sitting, a rarity on that bus at that time, listening to the kids talk about girlfriends and boyfriends, rarely about school-related topics. My belt was cinched as tight as it would go but still my pants were rather loose. When I stood up my pants slid down, exposing most of my Hanes in back. The kids behind me all got a terrific laugh. I was quite embarrassed but once off the bus and on the Trek pedaling to what was home at the time, it was funny.
 What was “home” at the time is a story unto itself.

The next day, same bus, same time, I got a seat and when we rolled up to San Diego High School all the kids got on. After they were all nestled in every nook and cranny of that vehicle the bus began its journey east. From behind I heard, amongst all the conversations taking place about girlfriends and boyfriends a young voice could be heard, just above a whisper, “There’s the old man with the pants falling down.”

Twitters of laughter followed and I have to admit, I smiled! We all want to be known for something and if what I’m known for is my pants falling down on the Number 7 bus, well what the Hell! Why not! At least it brought a little humor to their lives — and mine. But it’s rare I’m the center of anyone’s conversation. For that, I have to do some daydreaming.

Jeez, I won’t even go into that little tangent — too much. Saturday Night I went out to a little potluck with friends (we brought KFC grilled chicken) and one of the people there was wearing a T-shirt with a picture of an Uzi machine gun and the caption, “Uzi Does It.” I obsessed about it for hours. All sorts of ways to start a confrontational conversation floated through my head but I kept my yapper shut. After all, the guy is about a foot taller than me and weighs more. I was terribly outmatched.

But man! The conversations I had going on in my head, between this person and that person (most often the hot chicks), all talking about what a wonderfully principled and tough man I am.

Saturday I was at a restaurant, El Pollo Loco to be exact. That’s a funny story all by itself, but I’ll desist from that tangent for the time being. Anyway, a young couple behind me was talking about social networking sites, in particular, Facebook. Well, okay. Their conclusion: Facebook is for old people.

What? Old people? Sheesh! Yep, the old people have taken over Facebook and a person can’t turn around on Facebook without running into an old peoples group crowding out the cool younger peoples groups. According to the young couple sitting behind me.

Had to think about that for a few moments, which was fine because there was a three-piece meal, leg and thigh with two sides, mashed taters and a corn cob, to chow through. Who’s in my friends list on Facebook? Well, all my brothers and sisters, none of whom are younger than … well, 45 I think.

But most of my nieces and nephews are on Facebook and all of them are under 30. Nancy, Sarah, Andrew, Anthony and Emyli. Then there is a friend Sarah, well under 30, Tam ... and a few others.

Not to mention the lovely and talented Breann McGregor and Claudia Gestro, my favorite Hooters Girl, both of them under 30 as well. In fact, Claudia is a year older than my niece Nancy and Breann … eh, I forget.

But slowly, as my thoughts drew in the facts about my Facebook friends list, with all the siblings and friends, it’s clear most of the people in my little network are “old.” Is it really true, Facebook is for old people? Os is it just the perception? Most young people find that their parents have Facebook accounts and well, that really puts a damper on the wild extravagances we … err they … can indulge in, the same stuff that they can get away with on MySpace.
 Although that may not be entirely true for my niece Nancy and nephew Anthony. Their mother — my sister — Mlou has a Facebook account and both of them talk freely about their wild antics.

My MySpace account, well that’s an entirely different networking phenomenon. That was borne out of managing a struggling rock band and morphed into networking with … err … young people. “Like who,” you might ask? Well, the afore mentioned Claudia has a profile on MySpace, as do Nikki Ryann and Anna Lynn, but that’s about all I will venture at this time. I’m sure you get the drift.

At any rate, the social networking sites are what you make of them. MySpace is for one aspect of my life that doesn’t really mix with that other part of my life. They are kept separated and that’s the way it’s going to stay. But the truth is, I spend far more time on Facebook than MySpace because I can network with friends I see all the time. That’s the beauty of social networking sites. We can stay in touch with our friends. For my MySpace, I hardly keep in touch with anyone with that portal. It's nice to keep though, in the event I start a new professional venture.

For the two young people sitting behind me at El Pollo Locos, Facebook is for old people — despite the fact that they both talked about who they were actively networking with and what they were doing with their Facebook accounts.

Maybe Facebook isn’t just for old people, you snotty little shits! Of all the nerve!

Posted by Tim Forkes in Life at 12:01 | Comments (0) | Trackbacks (0)

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