Old people love to complain about young people, and I always defend them. The kids I encounter are almost always smart, caring, involved, and everything you’d want future citizens and stewards of the planet to be. I have no qualms about turning the world over to them.
Well, most of them. I collected two data points on a train ride Karen and I took today that tempered my optimism.
Data Point One: The train was crowded and two 13-year-old boys stood in the aisle beside us. Their conversation went like this:
“This train is moving so slow.”
“I could run faster than this.”
(Editor’s note: the train was going about 50 mph.)
“Could not!”
“Humans can run as fast as a cheetah.”
“No they can’t!”
“Humans can run 45 miles per hour. Cheetahs run 75.”
“Forty-five isn’t as fast as 75!”
“It’s almost as fast.”
"Not even close!"
“I think I could catch a cheetah.”
Several minutes later, they moved to get off at the next stop. I caught their eyes and said, “Hey guys. Twenty-eight miles per hour.”
“Huh?”
“Fastest human on Earth, Usain Bolt. Twenty-eight miles per hour.”
One slugged the other in the arm and said, “See! I told you!”
Data Point Two: On the return train trip, a young man maybe 17 sat across the aisle from Karen and me, his phone on speaker and turned up for everyone to hear. He and a buddy were making plans to get super wasted smoking pot and then go ocean kayaking, which even he seemed to realize sounded like a bad idea.
Then the kid on the phone said, “You ever bang any chicks?”
“Not for a while. But I've banged chicks.”
“It’s hella rad.”
“Yeah,” our trainmate agreed. “It’s hella rad.”
At that point, the conductor came by and told him to shut it down, which seemed to make some fellow travelers happy. Not me. I wanted to find out where this conversation was going. Instead, I nudged Karen with my elbow and in my most sultry, seductive voice whispered into her ear:
“Hella rad.”
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