It's called empathy

After I noticed that I was older than most of my coworkers—this was after my hearing had fled and TAB died—I began noting, on discovering a new acquaintance’s relative youthfulness “oh, you’re such a young thing!” (or words to that effect) I intended this as a self-deprecating, wit-scented compliment. To my great surprise, a couple of folks took offense. One person was even downright angry.

I was stunned. How could anyone feel insulted when, to my mind, I’d just given them a sweet little verbal posy? They were, in essence, dewy and youthful next to yours 12-miles-of-bad-road truly. My little, failed, bon mots were delivered with a sparkly grin too. Am I not charming as fuck OR what? What’s to feel insulted about?

The angry man—who was one slim year younger than me—was practically ready to duel. He seemed to take it as though I was saying that all his work and life experiences were no more than that of a callow frosh. Fer fuck’s sake, we were nearly the same age—my dry banter attempt, my intentions should have been crystal clear. Nope—MAJOR drollery fail. I apologized and tried, to no avail, to convey that I wasn’t dissing him. Though I was standing right in front of his desk, he couldn’t/wouldn’t see me and was pointedly not listening.

I felt horrible. If I had only thought before speaking (such a novel concept!) I probably could’ve anticipated his ire laden response. To say that Jim and I had polar opposite communication styles  and senses of humor is a mammoth understatement.

What did I learn from this?

First and most importantly, people can be really sensitive about their age and I need to respect that. The older we get, the more baggage we carry. Companies are less inclined to hire middle-aged and older types.  It’s harder to find new, kindred spirit type friends. If you’re a single woman interested in dating someone around your same age? Good fucking luck. The scars we all rock may not be visible but, all the same, they effect us, shape how we interact and connect (or not).

Just because I wear my embattled 63 years with acerbically buoyant (if occasionally weary) pride doesn’t mean everyone else does or even should. You do you and shit.

Second, if I don’t know someone well, it’s unwise to unleash my humor on them. I need to pay some goddamn attention and gauge whether or not a breezy quip will be understood and appreciated OR taken as a cutting brickbat. It’s called empathy dammit.

Not everyone’s gonna catch my pitched funny. Daddy and my BFF Kevin both said that I have the kind of presence that people either grok or radically misunderstand, love or hate. No grey areas for this babe.

And now this song is in my bean—Try a Little Tenderness.