Once I was chatting with someone who mentioned their aversion for hanging around old people. By old people, he meant those aged 60 and above. “What would we talk about?” He added. This individual just couldn’t fathom being stuck in the same space as a senior citizen for too long. His thinking—they were generations apart—so there’s really no point of intersection in their realities that would make for interesting conversation. I smiled, then reminded him that he would most likely be in the position of the older person one day and wondered how he’d feel if some youngster said the same thing he had just voiced.
It happened on Tuesday morning. Traffic had begun to build up as commuters tried to make their way to work. Traffic had slowed to intermittent stops as it approached the railway intersection. The time was about 6.15 am, there was still plenty of time for the driver to make the office without being adjudged late. As the car inched closer to the tracks, there was some noise…incoherent at first, and then louder, with an accompanying wave of frantic hands as a couple of pedestrians jogged in the direction of the cars who were trying to meander through fellow motorists to get to the other side of the road.