I can't wait to be a Hilarious Grumpy Old Guy!

Over the past few years, as I've slid into my twenties, I am for the first time conscious that there are people much, much younger than me. These people are generally my students and consider themselves way cooler than me. In fact, my best asset as a potential role model might just be as an example of why it pays to be cool, attractive, and wealthy. If you have issues with those three things, you'll end up like me, working with a classroom full of students who think you look "terrible" and "weird" and "stupidheadish" and all sorts of other wonderful things.

To their credit, I did in fact look terrible that day. Don't stay out all night drinking, kids.

But enough about the wee young nosepickers. Their mere existance has reminded me that one day, I too will join the ranks of countless men way, way past their prime and become a Hilarious Grumpy Old Guy (patent pending)!!

Those among you who are female, or under the age of 18, might not understand the attraction here. Is there any appeal whatsoever to wrinkles and senility and becoming so out of touch with current trends that you end up becoming a living fossil of a bygone era? You bet your '68 Ford truck there is!

Here's the main draw: You can say whatever you want. To anyone. And it really doesn't matter. You might be labeled a crazy old coot, but no one would dare tell you so to your face. Even if they did, what the hell do they know? You've seen it all. You're probably too oblivious to even notice their presumed superiority. While I have no desire to be the racist grandpa or the alcoholic elder (well actually...), there is nothing wrong with calling them how you see them. Everyone has to listen to you at least, for you speak with the wisdom of 65+ years of living, drinking, and generally telling it like it is.

Although sanity is not something that any of us have any control over, assuming that I still have half of my marbles in my twilight years, I think it might be fun to convince just one impressionable grandchild that I am completely off my rocker. While the rest of my family comments on how wonderful it is that I have retained my wits for so many years, whispering absolutely insane thoughts to just one kid could provide hours of endless entertainment.

Just picture it: "Hey, Timmy. You know, Grandpa's a pretty peaceful fellow, but I tell you what we should do. We should round up all those damn Democrats/Evangelicals/Norwegian people and string them up by their underpants. We then throw Bibles/condoms/more Norwegian people at them until they repent of their disgusting ways! Also, the Man Upstairs can read your thoughts and He knows what you're thinking about the pigtailed girl in your class. Shame on you. Now go get Grandpa his salve, his rash is getting all fiery again." Hours of fun!

In nursing homes, you are allowed to be grumpy. You sit in your chair all day and watch TV in your pajamas. You order as much pudding as you want, and they'll even spoon-feed you! Crossword puzzles are suddenly unbelievably awesome, even for non-English majors. You may even find yourself completing a really tough one after hours of racking your brain, only to find out later that it was actually a checkered tablecloth. No big deal--you can't see anything anyway. It's a crossword puzzle now, and you mothertruckin' kicked its ass.

It also bears mentioning that while old men are often mocked for wearing their pants way above their waists, anyone who has ever tried it secretly noticed that it was way more comfortable that way. It's not a popular opinion, I know, but I dare you to try it and disagree.

Although it might seem like I'm just slightly undervaluing the four to five decades between now and then, I think being an old fart is going to be the best time ever. It's like being a really, really little kid, but also being allowed to drink like a champion. Take a moment now to put in reservations at my future nursing home. We're gonna have a rippin' good time.