Grumpy Old Man Syndrome

I’ve quickly found myself becoming an angry old man. You know, the kid of one who shakes his fist at the clouds and yells at kids to get off his lawn. Considering I was an angry kid and an angry adult, this should come as no surprise to me or anyone who’s been lucky enough to know me for a while. Still, maybe for the first time in my life, I find myself attempting to relearn how to think and go about my life without judging others and perhaps be a tad less harder on myself.

GrillZ-1

Forgiveness and closure are powerful tools that have brought me more peace than I could have ever wished for. While I’m still learning and trying new ways to balance life. Having overall lower exceptions when it comes to myself and others has been a game changer. I still struggle to find that balance and overall acceptance that, no matter how much I wish it, we do not live in a perfect world.

Dodge-1

I Can’t Relate

This morning, as I waited for the library to open. I did my share of people watching. As I perused the steady flow of commuters, panhandlers and tourists. I became somewhat fixated on the amount of people stopping to take pictures in front of the library. Having lived just blocks away in Hell’s Kitchen for years.Selfie-1200 Places like Times Square, 5th Avenue and even the storied 42nd st. were areas I avoided at all costs.           I guess seeing these things on a daily basis for close to ten years can take some of the glimmer out of  things. Until this day, the mere thought of going anywhere near Times Square sends douche chills to places I didn’t know existed. With about a half hours wait left before the 10:00 am opening. I noticed a pretty young lady approach the library. Armed with a backpack and a fully armed selfie stick. She proceeded to spend the next thirty minutes taking pictures of herself. Not the architecture, the city she came to visit or even the bum who lay within feet of her fancy sandal. Herself!

Later on, as I was roaming the halls. I saw that same girl walking in front of me. Slowly cruising the same corridors as yours truely. You would think any traveler would stop to take in the countless years of history and culture. The colors and texture of a living landmark. Instead, her slowed pace was to properly analyze the half hour or so of diligent self preservation. Now I would never go as far as saying I hate these kind of people. I wouldn’t even say I feel sorry for them.             The truth is, it bothers me… and for the life of me, I will never understand or relate to them. Where are we going from here?   I don’t know.