The Old Coot is prepared

The Boy Scout motto is, “Be prepared.” (It’s also the Girl Scout motto, so I was just informed by Mrs. Google). I’ve confiscated the motto for use by my old coot crowd. Our present motto isn’t working so hot, and is quite long. The old coot motto is – “Observe, and then complain about modern society, comparing it to the good old days, to everyone you encounter.” Who wants to be saddled with that as a credo? Nobody wants to hear from us anyway! WE, us old coots, need to take over the “Be Prepared” motto, to reconfigure our persona. 

Those young scouts don’t need it anyway. It doesn’t matter if they’re prepared or not – they are well equipped to deal with whatever fate throws their way. They’re limber and fit, can hear and see clearly, have reflexes that respond to stimuli, have intact memories, cognitive brain function and many, many attributes that us old coots lost so long ago we scarcely remember ever having them. 

Staking a claim to the “Be Prepared” motto will make up for our shortcomings and help steer us through the daily dangers that lie in wait. Like the scouts, we have a uniform that identifies us to the world: big, off-white, leather-like, Velcro fastened sneakers – pants that are belted just below the rib cage – shirts that proclaim, “Old guys rule,” or some such idiotic sentiment – soiled, worn out baseball caps with Mickey Mantle’s #7 stitched onto the brim, or some other player from the inky dark shadows of the past – glasses with lenses the size of bagels, and coolest of all, flip phones in a case fastened to our belts, right next to our sun glasses holder. 

That paraphernalia is a good start. I’ve added a shoulder bag to my gear. It contains band-aids, a sign that says, “I’m lost; help me get home.” It’s handy to have on a bad memory day, when I wander into a place that doesn’t look familiar. A can of pepper spray is in the bag too, in case a mugger thinks I’m an easy target and makes a play for my $19 flip phone. There is a problem with this plan; I’ll have to ask the mugger to hang on a minute, and then hope he waits while I fumble through my bag for the spray. I have a series of fake names at the ready too, for when I get in a jam. Like the day I was accosted by a store manager for careening into a stack of merchandise at the end of an aisle and the sound of broken glass echoed through the store. That time I pulled out “Jim Steel.” It’s served me well on several occasions. A pen and notebook are in my bag too, in case I stumble on something to write about. That’s what I tell myself, but mostly I use it to write down the names of people and places I encounter for the first time. I’m tired of calling people Governor, Pal, Big Guy, Beautiful and Kid. And, referring to places in descriptive terms, not by their actual name: “That green building where the Smith’s used to have a candy store,” or “That place on the corner where Newberry’s used to be.” 

I’m off to a good start; I’ve only been operating with a “Be Prepared” motto for a short while; I welcome any suggestions that will improve my preparedness. I’d appreciate it, “Governor.”    
Complaints, comments. Send to – mlessler7@gmail.com.