Veronica Remsbottom 8:43 p.m., March 26
- Community Blog
Old Guys Rule
I am so sick of "old guys rule". I do not like the guys who wear the T-shirts or the hats or who have the bumper stickers on their trucks. I do not smile at them or their old lady. Call me an angry feminist, but last time I looked, old guys did rule and have ruled throughout my lifetime and they’ve succeeded at making a fine mess of things. They’ve ruled in government, business, religion, and they’ve created an untenable industrial growth culture, where their mantra for more, bigger, faster is killing us all.
I am furious at my neighbor, a lifelong Encinitas resident and a nice enough older guy, who has the audacity to run a screeching table saw in his driveway, which is directly across from my house, all day long, most every day. I dislike the sullen gardener, who has somehow secured contracts with most of the neighborhood, and who exhibits no particular facility at horticulture except for speed in weed whacking and leaf blowing.
It’s all about them all the time. And behind the self-serving, myopic, old boy, you often find a compliant woman: My dear friend Lynn came to visit me last year. We walked the beach at Swamis. Lynn was well into her third year in a love affair with Travis, a married man, and an old surfer from mid-coast. She was going through hell because Travis kept stringing her along about his impending divorce. Lynn and Travis talked on the phone every ten minutes. He was so afraid of losing her. While we were at Swamis, overlooking the waves, he rejoiced on the phone in his memories of Encinitas surf and good times, and he asked Lynn for a souvenir. What did he want? We drove to Pipes Café in Cardiff to pick him up an "old guys rule" cap.
We need to stop excusing the boys will be boys mentality. This attitude fosters dishonesty, greed, shortsightedness, favors, complacency, silence and wrongdoing. I know nothing about the Highway 101 road repair project, except that it is never going to end—they just keep changing the sign—Nov-Dec, Jan-Feb, March-April, May-July. All I see is a bunch of boys and their big toys making a mess of Vulcan. I don’t need to know who’s getting fat on that plum contract or what’s been accomplished since November. I just want consideration—just a word of acknowledgement that the extension of road repairs is an inconvenience-would quell my anger.
People I choose as friends set their moral compass to the highest good. They consider the bigger picture. They are conscious and kind. They reflect on the consequences of their actions. I’d love to have them in my neighborhood.