This "Gettin' Older" Thing Is Kinda Hard to Figger Out

Some days, it makes you feel like a complete dummy. Others, it makes you look like you actually know something--perhaps to the point where folks might even look at you and say, "Now, there goes one really smart ol' dude." My advice, however, is to cherish all the compliments you can get, because you're likely to hear more than a healthy dose of wisecracks to the contrary along the way, too.

Here's what I'm talking about. Over this past weekend, the occasion came up where I was trying my darndest to remember all the duty stations I had served at during my Navy career and the dates I was there. Back in February 1982, when I hung my Navy dress uniform in the closet for the last time, and for a lot of years afterward, I knew that stuff like the back of my hand and could rattle it off in a heartbeat. The best I could do this past weekend, though, was to sputter like some of the old geezers I used to chat with in my youth and think to myself, "Boy! I'll never let myself get like that!" Suffice it to say I've already taken steps to get a copy of all that information, so I'll never have to look so foolish again.

Fortunately, getting older doesn't always involve varying degrees of forgetfulness. Sometimes, it sets the stage for making you look fairly intelligent. For example, I recently read about a fella who called his neighbor, an older friend, to come have a look at his new-to-him bass boat. It was a late-70s tin boat, probably 14 or 15 feet long (no way to quickly tell for sure, since the manufacturer's plate was missing). The boat was powered by a 40-horse Merc with Thunderbolt ignition.

The new owner had found the boat at a farm-road entrance with a phone number taped to it. The farmer promised the engine ran. After hooking up some water to the engine and trying to run it, though, the buyer learned that the engine only would run a little bit, then die. He was staring at the boat and looking pretty disgusted when the neighbor arrived on the scene. After glancing at him, he again turned the key, but the motor once more just cranked and coughed.

The neighbor then asked his friend if he had used the choke, and all he got was a blank stare. The neighbor subsequently choked the engine and had his friend crank it again, but it still didn't start. It was when the friend explained that he had put gas in the tank that a light bulb went on for the neighbor. He asked his friend if he had opened the vent on the 7-gallon tank. The friend didn't have a clue there was a vent.

The neighbor went to the tank, opened the vent, and, upon hearing air rush into the tank, told his friend to turn the key. This time, the engine started and ran perfectly. Only an old guy would have remembered you had to vent the gas tank.

In another case, a guy was getting ready to take his first boat on its maiden voyage. The engine was a key start but also had a pull rope. The key start worked fine, but the owner wanted to try the pull handle, just to make sure. After several attempts, though, he couldn't get it to fire by pulling the rope, so he tried the key again, and it started right now.

The owner decided to go through the same process one more time. Unfortunately, however, the results were the same. By now, he was really getting perturbed. Seeing the frustration, the owner's dad, who was along for the ride, took a cigar out of his mouth long enough to offer this advice: "Turn the key to the 'on' position, then pull-start it--genius." That's actually a cleaned-up version of what the dad really said, but the son still obliged, the motor immediately started, and the son thanked him for saving the day.

What's the moral of this story? One that I liked is this quote by Sara Gruen, author of Water for Elephants: "Keeping up the appearance of having all your marbles is hard work, but important."