So, this is my first blog entry. Ever. Set your expectations accordingly.
I discovered today that I am, in fact, getting older. No, not just older… I’m getting old. Case in point: I once was the youngest and brightest (or, so I thought) in farming (which, by the way, is not hard when you consider that the age of the average farmer is around 60). I had fresh ideas, tons of energy and no patience for any old farmer who tried to tell me why my ideas wouldn’t work. I remember feeling that the older generation wanted to break my spirit! That feeling drove me to prove to the farming world that their obsolete ideas should be ushered out the back door in disgrace.
I remember feeling that the older generation was trying to break my spirit!
But today I realized that I’m old. Exactly when it happened, I can’t say. Failures, successes, people and circumstances have had their impact, I suppose. But today I found myself listening intently to the 70 year-old neighbor farmer as he told me how they used to farm, back in the day. It wasn’t until this enthralling conversation was over that I realized it: I am one of them. I’ve seen the new ideas come and go. I’ve seen the new kid rise and fall. I’ve tried every snake-oil and fru-fru-juice that the salesmen were selling. I’ve been there, done that and I’m telling you there’s nothing new under the sun. It’s all been tried before, repackaged with a new label, and then tried again.
This revelation has given me new respect for previous generations and increased skepticism toward new products and ideas. It has even changed my outlook on the next generation. They are no longer my competition; the next generation will be my protege. Young people are an opportunity to pass on wisdom that I have acquired. This is exciting stuff! And, who knows?, maybe the next generation will have something to teach me, too!
I think that I’m going to show the old- old guys that the new- old guys can guide the next generation without breaking their spirit! Maybe I can still get one up on them…
The Plaidshirt Prophet 
Life is long and wonderful. Better to be old than young. Me, I have finally caught up to my age. I’ve been in thirties since I was born and am looking forward to every wrinkle and grey hair wisdom and experience has to offer. Let’s sit on a porch sometime fellow old-timer.
FYI: In my aged, experienced state I tend to be grumpy, opinionated, a little crass and sometimes rude. Not the deep, angry-at-the-world grumpy, but the shallow, irritable and (hopefully) endearing grumpiness so often observed in old men. My companionship is often lackluster, if not downright boring. The good news is that my wife is a terrific conversationalist who is upbeat, warm, gracious and funny; and she will accompany me and (almost) offset my sour spirit. We would love to join you on the front (or back) porch of your choosing, either in person, in cyberspace or in some future place where we will spend eternity at rest. In the meantime, I will continue to enjoy your writing and I will continue to write.