Will Morrow (courtesy)

Will Morrow (courtesy)

When did I get wise?

When did I turn into that old guy who feels like he has to give everyone else advice?

By Will Morrow

High school graduation is just a couple of weeks away, and I find myself wondering what advice I would pass on to all those young adults heading out into the world.

Then I find myself wondering, when did I turn into that old guy who feels like he has to give everyone else advice?

The answer, I think, is that watching your youngest child navigate her senior year of high school during a pandemic will age you. I mean, just having a senior in high school will age you, but the past 12 months have felt quite a bit longer than that. I can’t help but compare my senior year of high school (which was 30 years ago — no wonder I’m feeling old) and my experiences to what my kids have experienced during their senior years.

ADVERTISEMENT
0 seconds of 0 secondsVolume 0%
Press shift question mark to access a list of keyboard shortcuts
00:00
00:00
00:00
 

I remember my high school graduation speaker, the evening news anchor from one of the local TV stations. He ran through a list of what things were like when he graduated from high school — bread was nickel, gas was a quarter and he listened to music on 45’s.

I don’t remember how much bread was when I graduated, but I know my mom had to buy a lot of it for a family of six. Gas prices had just jumped significantly, up over a dollar, due the first Gulf War. I shared a car with my twin sister at the time, and our $5-per-week gas allowance didn’t get us as far as it once had. Of course, the issue became moot when I wrecked the car and had to ride my bike everywhere for the summer.

And we listened to our music on cassettes. Sure, compact discs were hitting the music store shelves, but they cost about twice as much and those early disc players skipped when your car hit a bump. Our version of Spotify was a stereo with dual tape decks. Grab a pack of blank cassettes and you could make mix tapes to your heart’s content.

It’s certainly been a different experience for this year’s seniors. I still don’t know how much a loaf of bread costs, but there’s so many more options than the white or wheat that I grew up on — and we use tortilla wraps instead of bread half the time anyway. I’m not sure how much my daughter worries about gas prices, because so many of the opportunities to gather in-person were scuttled over the past year.

And of course, kids today listen to music on their phones. They have a catalogue of every song ever recorded at their fingertips — it’s how my son discovered punk rock versions of Polish folk songs. With headphones or a portable wireless speaker, they can bring it anywhere. They don’t even need to scavenge D batteries from all the flashlights in the house just to get it to work.

Isn’t technology amazing?

That brings me back to my original thought, which was advice I would give to this year’s graduates. And the truth is, I don’t know. Things seem to change so fast that what seems like solid advice today is obsolete tomorrow. I’m closer to retirement (I hope) than the start of my career, and I’m still constantly learning new things. Heck, I just started a new exercise plan, and I need to make a cheat sheet of all the data I’m supposed to be collecting — which, apparently, I can do from my phone.

So, instead of advice, I’m going to make a request: As you go out into the world, do so with empathy. There will come a day — sooner than you think — where some younger person will question your life experience and all the decisions you’ve made along the way.

While you’re still the younger person, please remember that there’s usually a pretty good reason why us old folks do things the way we do. Give us some credit, because we’ve done some pretty significant things. And keep in mind that we’re still growing as people, just as you are, too.

Congratulations to the Class of 2021. I’m excited to see how you change the world — and what new way you invent to listen to music.

In the meantime, if I could get some help making a mix tape on Spotify, I’d sure appreciate it.

Will Morrow lives in Kenai. Reach him at willmorrow2015@gmail.com.

More in Life

"Octopus" is an acrylic painting by new co-op member Heather Mann on display at Ptarmigan Arts in Homer, Alaska. Photo provided by Ptarmigan Arts
July First Friday in Homer

Homer’s galleries and public art spaces celebrate with new and ongoing exhibits.

Frank Rowley and his youngest child, Raymond, stand in knee-deep snow in front of the protective fence around the main substation for Mountain View Light & Power in Anchorage in 1948 or ’49. This photo was taken a year or two before Rowley moved to Kenai to begin supplying electrical power to the central peninsula. (Photo courtesy of the Rowley Family)
Let there be light: The electrifying Frank Rowley — Part 2

In July 1946, the soft-spoken Rowley was involved in an incident that for several consecutive days made the front page of the Anchorage Daily Times.

This nostalgic sauce is so shockingly simple, you’ll never buy a bottle again. Photo by Tressa Dale/Peninsula Clarion
America’s favorite culinary representative

The original recipe for ranch dressing was invented and perfected in Alaska, out in the bush in 1949.

Graphics show the nine finalists in three age groups for the Soldotna “I Voted” sticker design contest. (Provided by City of Soldotna)
Soldotna announces finalists for ‘I Voted’ sticker contest

Public voting will be open until July 20 to determine the winners.

Homer’s Cosmic Creature Club performs at the 2024 Concert on the Lawn at Karen Hornaday Park. (Emilie Springer/Homer News file)
July events to provide entertainment and fun on lower Kenai Peninsula

Events include the Highland Games, Concert on the Lawn, local art camps and the Ninilchik Rodeo.

Nick Varney
Unhinged Alaska: Flashback dreams and the cold sweats

When summer arrives, every personage in the known cosmos suddenly seems to remember that they have kindred living in Alaska.

File
Minister’s Message: Freedom is not what you think

If freedom isn’t what we first think it is, what is it?

This is the Kenai Power complex. The long side of the plant faces the Frank Rowley home, seen here at the right side of the photograph. (Photo courtesy of the Rowley Family)
Let there be light: The electrifying Frank Rowley — Part 1

Frank Rowley made one of the most important steps toward modernization in the history of Kenai.

Most Read