The Old Man and the E (Game)

I keep remembering an elderly gentleman who sat across the aisle from me on the plane from Tucson to Atlanta. He must have been in his 80s easily, and looked to be a simple man, perhaps a farmer. His hands were wrinkled and scarred from manual labor of some sort, his fingernails very short and etched in the blackness of a lifetime of handling dirt, his face and neck tough leather from years of being outdoors.

He couldn't hear well, but that didn't bother him a bit. He was unconcerned that he missed the stewardess' emergency instructions. He sat comfortably holding a small white electronic game, watching the screen with studied interest, pushing buttons here and there indiscriminately. I suspect he had no idea what he was doing, and had bought the thing in the terminal out of sheer boredom and curiosity.

The rest of us could hear the typical game music and sound effects as he poked and prodded the little toy. The expression on his face never changed, despite the fact that he was repeating the same mistakes and missing the same opportunities. There was no sense of impatience, regret, frustration that often accompanies trying to master one of those obnoxious computer rigged sets. Just a dogged continuation of exploration that garnered precious little change.

Though the sounds were becoming a bit irritating, no one wanted him to stop. The young girl in the seat behind him peered over his shoulder from time to time, especially if he seemed to have elicited a new sound. She would mouth her amazement and approval that someone so ancient would be doing such a new thing. She considered him 'way cool.'

It was a paragon of amusement to see the old world encountering the new. It reminded me of my own grandmother who at the tender age of 84 took her first motorcycle ride and loved it. Who was willing to drink Coke instead of coffee (until it had an adverse effect). Who went into a pizza place and ordered two pies - one for her and one for her hubby. Make no mistake, she knew what she liked and what she didn't. No sense wasting resources on something just to be hip. But her natural curiosity and her open willingness to try things kept her young and connected to the world around her.

I want to be like them. Regardless my age, I want that exploratory nature, not the one that says "look at me, I'm cool" or "hey, something new, let's jump in with both feet," but the one that says "I wonder what that's like? I'll try it on my terms. I might not be cool and adept, but if it has merit, I will adopt it." Keep learning. Keep experiencing. Yes, I can do that.