Becoming a Grumpy Old Man
Before I start, it's worth noting that my daughters would enthusiastically volunteer that I am already a grumpy old man, and my other half would confirm it without a second thought – while giving me the “you really need to ask me this?” eyebrows.
I took Miss 18 to the cinema this afternoon to watch the second “IT” movie – based on the book by Stephen King (who plays a wonderful cameo in the movie, just so you know). The movie was good. Not great. Just good. I'm not here to write about the movie though – I'm here to write about the row of teenagers at the back of the movie theatre who chatted, and laughed throughout the first few minutes of the movie until a women sitting near them shouted at them to shut up or she would report them to the staff and have them ejected from the cinema.
Thankfully they shut up.
While I generally try to look for positives in people, those few minutes in the movie theatre today tipped the balance. They were perhaps 15 and 16 years old, wearing label clothes, and had that special kind of arrogance that comes with never having worked for anything in their lives. They laughed when challenged about their behavior until they realised the entire rest of the movie theatre was furious with them too.
I wonder where it starts? I wonder how so many children become so myopic? I wonder how they become so conceited, arrogant, and entitled? Is it down to nurture, or nature? And if it is nature, what has caused it? Perhaps the algorithmic timeline generation have been surrounded by concordant feedback from the online echo chambers for so long that they really have lost all empathy, appreciation, or consideration for anybody or anything outside of their bubble.
Or maybe I really am turning into a grumpy old man that will walk the streets waggling my walking stick at children – angrily berating the world around me for any and all perceived faults, injustices, and annoyances.