What Old People Really Talk About

It’s mostly making right-hand turns

Most old people are still in shock that they’ve gotten old. This is particularly true about guys between the ages of 71 and 78. Conversations revolve around things they used to do easily but now find themselves avoiding, usually with a chuckle.

Once you crest 80, the shock wears off, and people start getting impressed by how fossilized you are, yet able to converse.

Most of my friends in their seventies and eighties talk about their daily lives, just like when they were young. Now, daily life consists of medical appointments, updates on people’s health, the hell of travel, and what’s happening with the grandkids (and sometimes kids).

This is accompanied by a healthy side of complaints about customer service, technology, and how much everything costs.

Without work, most of life comes down to what’s going on at home — and what’s happening with whoever happens to be in our lives — but the peculiarities of aging in a modern, industrial society mean a few other topics get special attention: negotiating tech, traffic, and travel.

Medical issues are part of most conversations, but they have a life of their own that should be reserved for several posts, or possibly a book, or perhaps a mini-series starring Clint Eastwood, Morgan Freeman, and Judi Dench.

Technology is a problem for everyone — it’s worse when you’re old

Getting a simple repair on a smartphone, or figuring out some nagging glitch with software is always a drag. You have to locate who to call, hope someone picks up the phone, explain the problem, and pray the person you are talking to didn’t start the job yesterday.

When you are old, these types of hassles become a big deal because you usually don’t know how to fix the problem to begin with since you’ve never experienced it as a result of growing up in a time when things didn’t break as much. You are less likely to Google the answer, or else some idiot volunteered to fix it, made it worse, and then you had to dial up the Geek Squad.

Tech problems weren’t problems when the Silent Generation was young. Hell, they weren’t problems when Gen X was young.

We didn’t have to fix sh*t ourselves until we started owning houses, and even then, it was appliances. Our telephones never broke, and we didn’t have computers.

It’s hard to imagine this bizarro past reality, but there was only ONE phone company, so you sent your complaints to one place, where a person picked up every time because robo-chat was only a gleam in the eye of Satan.

No one would have considered fixing a typewriter, beyond adjusting the ribbon or cartridge. Most people didn’t even bother with typewriters unless they were writers.

Traffic sucks everywhere, but yes, eye-hand coordination matters

Most people view The Olds as slower-moving, and that’s generally true. Something else is going on, however, when it comes to traffic.

I have 70-something friends who can hike all day long and are mentally agile, but they can’t make a left turn.

Maybe it’s having a history of accidents, or maybe it’s being retired and not having to get anywhere quickly, but people who’ve lived in big cities their whole lives stop making left turns as a matter of principle.

At this juncture, it’s a point of pride for me to keep making left turns till I’m 85. Granted, I live in the forest and the biggest obstacle is deer, but nonetheless, I refuse to submit to this path of least resistance.

Traffic is unique because driving calls for a lot of awareness and coordination we take for granted. My brother-in-law, for example, has some neuropathy, and that makes driving more difficult.

It turns out it’s easier to drive when you can feel your feet.

The issue I’m noticing is my reaction time is slower, or else I’m in more of a daze. I’m not sure if it’s physical, mental, or circumstantial.

Another factor is my irritation at traffic has turned into deep hatred, which is one reason I live in a forest.

Traveling is both less novel and more uncertain

I like road trips, but I’ve come to realize I’m much more triggered by small annoyances, like a bad pillow or an annoying Airbnb. Usually, bad pillows are on the litany of petty grievances lurking inside annoying Airbnbs.

I was more focused on the adventure part when I was young, and whatever apartment I lived in wasn’t nearly as comfy as my house.

When you’ve collected all the things you love in one place over a lifetime, it’s hard for roadside accommodations to measure up. I have a portable sauna at home, a cozy comforter, my cat, and various other amenities.

The physical discomfort of travel wore off pretty quickly in the old days. Now, it lingers, and I have flashes of self-doubt about the next trip.

My attitude about all this is to keep traveling, even if it gets uncomfortable, which I’m sure it will. When I see 80-somethings jetting across the country in winter, I realize it’s totally doable.

The ladies of the basketball club

I didn’t think I’d learn important life lessons when I moved to Arkansas, but then I fell in with a crowd of geezer basketball players, all women, and my eyes were opened.

People have a lot of stupid stereotypes about Arkansas, like it’s filled with hillbillies and you are required to join a church.

While those two are entirely true, I’ve discovered that otherwise, everyone is nice, and churches are much better than I, an atheist, could have ever imagined. For one thing, they provide free basketball access!

My basketball club is ladies-only, and ages range from 40-something to 80-something. Most of them played college ball. Reda informed me she was the first female in the state of Mississippi to get a basketball scholarship to college.

They didn’t stop playing. It’s uncomfortable, and the list of surgeries is astounding, but they love the game, and this love has served them well.

They didn’t let getting old keep them from being active, even in a sport where hitting the hard ground is not uncommon.

They show up down at the church every Wednesday, and we practice.

I don’t ask if any of them turned left to get down there. I’m simply grateful they still push themselves outside their senior comfort zone.

It’s totally selfish. I’m humbled by what an idiot I was when I was young and thought old people didn’t do anything and weren’t really living.

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Jean Campbell recently started her first Substack newsletter to laser focus on getting her book, City of Lies: A Street Hustler’s Omaha Journey published.