Column | An old fart tells

It must have been a coincidence, but no sooner had I lifted my heels on this place last week than there was already a column elsewhere in the newspaper under the provocative headline: “When are you officially an old fart?”

The perpetrator was Japke-d. Bouma. I can take it from her, but I wasn’t very amused anyway. After all, I was not asked anything, although as an expert by experience I could have given the best answer immediately: “If you are almost 77 years old, like me, and still write columns.”

Then you will immediately hear from younger, political opponents on the (a)social media with every opinion that is not in line with theirs: “Old bag.” In their eyes I have indeed officially become a very old fart, ready for the nursing home. I now accept it as a badge of honor and even consider it a compliment. Especially if, for lack of arguments, they suffice with this swear word – which is usually the case.

I must also admit with some reluctance that I could identify with some of the criteria of Bouma’s test. Such as: “Every app comes in with a loud ‘dzjing’ because you don’t know that the sound can be turned off.”

That is also the reason why I often leave my cell phone at home when I have to go to a serious appointment. You are at the notary to arrange a living will, the question is whether you still have a euthanasia wish, or special wishes for your funeral – and while you look for suitable formulations with played distance, your phone screeches: “Jing.” And the worst part is: you don’t easily know how to prevent a recurrence. What you do know is that the notary now thinks: “Old bag.” (Notaries never think: “Old fart.”)

The criterion was also very recognizable: “If you ask for a quiet table when making a reservation in a restaurant.” With the difference that I usually only regret my choice afterwards, so in the restaurant. You can ask the service to turn the music down a bit, but you will notice from their compassionate response that they will consider you as a…

Some interesting criteria can be added to Bouma’s test. Such as: “You tell someone a strong story about your own experiences and halfway through you think: haven’t I told him or her this before?” But you can’t go back now! Moreover, you will never know whether your fears were well founded, because no one will reveal anything.

What I missed the most was the older person’s compulsion to control. He wants to leave nothing to chance and to submit to the circumstances in advance. Improvisation is irresponsible and only suitable for young people.

Traveling can become unnecessarily tiring. Tickets, passports and debit cards are nervously brought out every hour. Do we have everything now? yes we have everything The suitcases are already packed one or two days before the return journey. That means that they have to be unpacked a few more times because swimming trunks, sun creams and toothbrushes were already stored. I can start a cap museum at home with all sorts of caps lying unreachable at the bottom of packed suitcases. Perhaps the older person is not only afraid of losing his things forever, but also of himself, at least, the younger jerk he once was.