When I turned 65 recently, on November 1, 2009, I entered the ranks of senior citizens without question. And I suppose I became a full-fledged curmudgeon in the minds of some people. I really don't like being called a curmudgeon, which by definition is a bad-tempered, difficult, cantankerous person. I prefer to consider myself a kind, considerate and thoughtful person. But, I am a kind,considerate and thoughtful person who doesn't abide stupidity easily.
I recently had some leg problems which deteriorated rather quickly. In a day's time I went from hobbling to walking (or shuffling) with a cane. The next day I was barely moving with a walker and when I finally was able to get in to see the doctor, I had to use a wheel chair. We don't know what caused it, but we treated the symptoms and made improvement. (There are still times I feel more comfortable with a cane in hand.)
A few days later I was back moving ever so slowly with a cane. My wife had tickets for a concert by the musical group, U-2, at the football field at the University of Oklahoma in Norman. I wanted to go and it was important to her, so we, with a couple of friends, set out. They drove me as close to the field as they could and then, like others ahead of us, we turned left and stopped so I could walk the three blocks or so to the field while they parked the car further away.
I struggled to rise to a standing position from the car as a young police officer watched me. I then used my cane to shuffle to the trunk where I was getting my coat. As I raised the trunk, the young officer said, "You'll have to move that car."
I turned toward him slowly, looked him in the eye and with deliberation, said, "Officer, I'm moving as fast as I can." Then I remained silent and kept staring at him. It was a pregnant pause.
I thought he might want to say something like, "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't notice you were barely able to walk even with that cane. Is there anything I can do to help you?" Or, "I'm sorry, sir, but I didn't ask about your physical capabilities, I simply want you to know you have to move that car." Or, even, "I'm sorry, sir, but I was born with mental deficiencies and it has caused me to have a lot of feelings of inferiority but this badge and this gun make up for it."
To my surprise he didn't say anything at all. I should have let it go, but I took my cane and hit the car and called to my wife loudly. She got out of the car and asked me what was wrong. I said, "You can't leave the car here." She allowed as how she wasn't going to, to which I replied, "Well, me and this young officer thought you were going to park here all night. And we just wanted you to know you'll have to move that car."
She got in the car and drove off and I hobbled past the young officer commenting on his intelligence, or lack thereof, and probably commenting on his parentage. I also expressed my hope that he would be old someday and unable to walk well and I hoped he remembered this. To his credit, he still had nothing further to say.
Perhaps I am a curmudgeon after all.
