I recently had a guy from the church I go to invite me to participate in a mens support-group-type-thingie. Having never been invited by much of anyone to participate in much of anything since moving to the wonderful panhandle of Nebraska, I was at first quite excited. He explained to me that this would be a group of guys getting together once a week for a couple of hour shooting some hoops and, you know, just being there for each other if anyone needed some other guys to talk to about, you know, guy stuff.
What a spectacular idea! I thought this sounded pretty cool, and I was stoked that this guy had thought of inviting me to participate! I was stoked until he asked me the following:
“You are 40 or over, right?”
Oh crap.
“Yes, I’m 42,” I said, suddenly feeling a little nauseous.
“Great,” he said. “We’re doing this for guys 40 and over. You know, the younger guys have other stuff they are involved in and support groups in place. When you get to be our age, it’s harder to keep up with the young ones but all guys need a little male bonding. We thought it would be pretty neato if a group of us older guys could hang out.”
Suddenly, my mind is racing. “Our age”… I believe this dude just turned 50. All of a sudden “our age” is 50? Crap. “Harder to keep up”… “older guys”… “neato”… I don’t remember anyone from my generation ever using stinking “neato” in daily conversation… am I starting to lose my memory? All of a sudden I’m being asked to join a senior citizens’ group! It’s almost like he just handed me the stinking senior discount card for Perkins and is asking me to join him and the other codgers for some pie and coffee at 4:30 in the stinking morning. This is what I’m reduced to?!?
I’ve never really had a “group” that I fit in with here in the wonderland of Nebraska. At 42, I feel like I may well be stuck in some sort of groupless vortex. Those younger than me are either hanging out at the bars or doing the sports thing. I’m not too keen on any kind of bar scene, and the thought of taking off my shirt for a pick-up game of shirts and skins makes me (and anyone who has seen me) have a little bit of throw-up-in-the-mouth action going on. I don’t really hunt, and fishing is fun for about 15 minutes. Driving for 8 hours to Lincoln for a Husker game — along with the 4 hours of the game itself and the 8-hour drive back… plus the cost of the ticket and travel — is time and money from a short, poor life that I would never be able to get back. Willingly going to a Husker game would be kind of like paying the police $300 to spend the day in jail; it’s just not something I personally could do and still claim sanity. I’m at an age and level in the local society where I really just don’t fit in with any group.
Many of the guys my age or older seem to be either:
A — of a higher social standing than me and/or making more money than me.
B — on foodstamps and welfare and happy as hell that they are living off of the taxes of others.
C — of a similar social standing and income to me, but they like spending their evenings and weekends at the bars or rooting for the Huskers.
C- — This is a subsection of C. These are guys who are in pretty much the same crappy, sinking boat as me, but they have something aside from work to latch onto. They have their music, or they have their art or their hobbies. They get together with a bunch of other geeks once a month and play Dungeons and Dragons. They have something in common with others that draws them into groups.
So, even though I may be resigning myself to the fact that I am approaching ancientness, I decide to be thankful that at least the old guys at my church are willing to invite me into their group.
“So, who all will be there?” I ask the inviter (who happens to own his own successful insurance agency).
He proceeds to tell me that there will probably be a couple of other successful business owners, a couple of dentists, a pastor, and other various successful guys. Once again, I’m starting to doubt that I stand much of a chance of fitting in.
“And when do you meet?” I asked.
“Mondays, from 7 to 9 at night at the church,” he said.
“Oh… that’s too bad,” I said. “I’m a boy scout leader and we have troop meetings every Monday at 7.”
“Well, if you ever get a chance, try to make it,” he said.
“I will, ” I probably lied.
So on Monday nights, instead of hanging out with a bunch of good guys who will unwittingly make me feel even more down about my social lot in life, I’ll still be hanging out with the boy scouts. Boy scouts are young and eager and full of optimism… and I have the responsibility of awakening them to the realities of life as I see them. How’s that for hope for our future 😀
Im about as anti-social as anyone could possibly be. Thats why I like to hang out with Toby so much, because he definatley has one up on me in the ant-isocialism club. But, I do wish sometimes that someone would find me interesting enough to ask me to go hang out with them. Of course, I would have to decline, due to my lack of security, but it would still be neato if they asked. Oh, dont get me wrong, I get asked to go out,,by my wife. Only, I would be going out with my wifes friends who invited her, and who I honestly wouldnt recognize in a line-up. Sometimes I think, hey, maybe I will meet some really cool people and have the time of my life. Then I think, maybe they will all think something is wrong with me. Then I think, what if they all hate me so much that they decide to gang up and beat me in a dark alley. Then I just decide to say no thanks, maybe next time hon. And then I cant sleep the next few nights worrying that Im ruining my wifes fun. So I think maybe I should start working out, quit smoking, get in really good shape, so I can have more pride in myself, and take my wife out for a good time on the town now and then. And if Im in really good shape, I could take them guys that would gang up on me. And then I start thinking about taking them guys, and then I hurt one really bad, and go to prison, and then, then, then, I take a drink, have a smoke, and forget about the whole thing. Im pretty happy the way I am, I think.
Yes, I’m pretty sure you may be ruining your wife’s fun. The thing is, you need to take your wife somewhere where you don’t have to worry about “taking” anyone. You’re getting too old for those kinds of places. Find a good church, or join… I don’t know… something! Volunteer with the Red Cross or the United Way of become active in the chamber of commerce. The chamber would help you promote the business you work for and you could hang out with other people in a non-wanting-to-fight-in-the-bar-type scene. That’s the problem with small town America (especially one as small as yours)… the lack of options for a non-alcoholic evening out. They have to exist, you just have to look for them. I’m telling you, you need to volunteer for something. Become part of something larger than yourself… it sounds stupid (I used to think it was stupid too), but it can change you for the better… because I don’t believe that you really are that happy the way you are 🙂
I agree, I really do. But I really am anti-social. Just something that I know I have to work on. I think just a movie and dinner now and again would make the wifey happy as could be for awhile. Then of course I will have to step it up, but one step at a time, right?
Thanks for the feedback, I actually do appreciate that. Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year.