50-year-old Ron and 23-year-old Ron compare notes

This post was done entirely with voice-recognition software, and in that entire last paragraph it didn't make a single mistake.

Back when I was 23, I wondered what life would be like when I was 42 -- 42 being the magical number because that's the age I would be in the year 2000.  Well, I'm 50 now, and there are a number of things that are different.  I live in the city; I had absolutely no intention of leaving the woods.  I work on a computer and read and write all day, whereas at age 23 my entire day was filled with manual labor, and I sneered at all other forms of work.  I am married now, and 23-year-old Ron would not be all that surprised to know that I married woman with a disability.  I'd been excluded from one thing or another practically all my life, and the fact that I could identify with someone else who is quite familiar with barriers - that would make perfect sense to 23-year-old Ron, and still does to 50-year-old Ron.

What's gonna knock 20-something Ron on his butt is finding out that old-man Ron not only wears glasses, but found a pair of eyeglass frames he likes.  Sonny, those eyeglass frames cost $800, and you did not walk out of the store laughing.  You liked them, and you're going to buy them.

That's what the future has in store for you, 23-year-old Ron -- prosperity.  Not only will you be prosperous, but the vast majority of Americans would not think you were particularly wealthy.  There are still poor people in America.  I don't mean to downplay that at all.  But on the average, Americans have become almost sickeningly rich.  And even though you still buy almost all of your clothes at yard sales -- make that *all* of your clothes at yard sales, and still cook mostly from scratch, and fully intend to drive the same car you've been driving for the last ten years for the next ten years, there are still times when you see something, something that costs way too much, and you'll say, "sold."

Twenty-something Ron would like to butt in here, and say this is the biggest load of crap I've ever heard.  $800 bucks?  Have you forgotten that in 1981 you reported taxable income of $1100?  Do you remember promising yourself that if you ever got a good job he would set aside every $20 bill you possibly could?  That's 40 20s you old fool!

Now, just you watch how you talk to your elders Sonny.  Remember when you walked into the appliance store and plunked down $850 for the biggest saw in the catalog?  If I'm not mistaken, it was a 100 CC chainsaw, more of a motorcycle than a chainsaw.  And the salesman tried to talk you out of it, because he thought you were too small for that much of a saw.  And you looked back at him and thought to yourself, "bite me, buddy."  You knew you wanted the best tool possible, because you were going to be the best woodcutter in the woods.  And a year later you were cutting and delivering 3 chords a day, all by your lonesome.  That wouldn't have happened if you bought that Homelite, a McCullough, a Poulan.  No, you wanted a big honking Partner, with a 22-inch bar and a chisel chain.  The tools you choose matter, and I just need different tools.

Without glasses I can't see worth beans, and the first store had eyeglasses that looked like crap and they wanted $150.  So  we went shopping around - you and me - and there were some kind of okay looking glasses for $250.  But that's a hell of a lot of money to be paying for something you don't like.  Now, I work with people all day, and my appearance matters.  As annoying as that may be, it's a fact of life in the city.  Not only am I going to have to look out of those glasses, but the people who look back at me are going to be looking at those glasses.  The spendy glasses look great.  Deal with it.

OK, 23-year-old Ron here again.  I don't buy that one bit.  You've forgotten where you come from.  You've forgotten the way you were raised.  You're just another yuppie.  Do you have a condo up in Telluride?  Do you?

No, but I do have a condo in the city, and I walk to work.

Thank God for small miracles.

It seems like we're just going to have to agree to disagree doesn't it?

Seems that way.

And as long as you're totally disillusioned, I might as well tell you I weigh 180 pounds.

No you don't.

Yes I do.

No. No, you're just messing with me now.  You expect me to believe you moved to the city, work at a desk, and wear size 36 pants.

33s.  You did.

You sold out.

Let me ask you something.  What's a good hourly wage?

Eight bucks.  At that rate you could work a good long day and end up with a hundred bucks in your pocket.

I see.  And have you found a woman willing to live with you at wood camp yet?

No.

If a tree fell on you, and you were laid up in a hospital for a week, how much of that would be covered by your health insurance?

What's health insurance?  Don't tell me you've gone all liberal on me and signed up for some outfit that offers health insurance.

You got that right.  And a retirement plan, an ergonomic keyboard and mouse, and the occasional free ticket to go see some great live entertainment.

Ergonomic mouse?

It's a lazer-enabled device that facilitates digital data manipulation.

The hell you say.

That's what a mouse is.

If you say so.

So are you a Democrat now?

No, but I haven't voted for a Republican since Reagan.

Why?  What the hell happened?

You'll see.  Let's just say it had something to do with missiles.

That doesn't sound good.

No, not good at all, and it's gonna rock your world.

I'm not so sure I like the future.

In a lot of ways it blows.

Blows?

Sucks.

Oh.  I get it.  Blows is a much better word for the concept.

I agree.

So, this lady, whats her name?

Janie.  Janie's gonna corner you in a coffee shop one day and make you promise to come in early the following week so you can talk for a while.

A woman that pursues you? That sounds refreshing.

Tell me about it.  She's great, man.  She has a level head on her shoulders, every bit your equal.  When she was 16, she fought her way back from a car accident that left her right side almost paralyzed.  She learned to talk again, she went back to school and graduated with her high school class.  She went on to college and got a degree.

Sounds like my kind of girl.

Oh she is, big time.

So, what's it like living in Denver?

I don't live in Denver.  You an me - we live in Minnesota.

(                                                              )

That must be weird.

It is, or it was at first.  It's further away than Iowa . . . . and you thought you'd never leave Colorado.  Hell, you thought you'd never even leave Ouray.  Well, believe it.  And by the way, you're not going to remember one word of this conversation.  If you did, you'd for sure do something to screw it up, and I like things the way they are.  To be more precise, I'm real, you're not.  You're still part of me, but 50-year-old Ron calls the shots now.  Someone has to think about the future, and that someone doesn't sound at all like the Ron I used to be.