When I was eighteen, I was confident that there was nothing I didn't already know, that was ever worth knowing.
When I was twenty-five, I finally realized that I wasn't always the smartest guy in the room.
When I married at thirty, I came to know how wrong I could be (or at least blamed) in almost any circumstance.
When I attained thirty-five, I conceded that my parents weren't as stupid as I knew they were at eighteen.
By age forty, I had to think twice about things. A lot.
At forty-five, the inescapable conclusion arrived twenty years behind: Not only was I not the smartest guy in the room then...I never would be.
As I approach fifty, I'm just pleased to remember where I left my keys.
Failure, experience, and my spiteful refusal to die simply to appease the wishes of my enemies; this blend has imbued me with a character trait that some identify as wisdom. Many others remain skeptical of this attribution. I think it wise (or maybe just prudent) to offer a "No Comment".
While true that I have continually met folks younger than myself that I might deem as "wise beyond their years", I take comfort in the notion that time alone will temper that apparent wisdom, and that stupidity breeds five times faster than any amount of wisdom can ever successfully prevent.
"You can't reach old age by another man's road. My habits protect my life but they would assassinate you."
--Samuel Clemens (an embittered, yet wise man), 70th birthday speech, 1905
[PS. smiley emoticon insert here...just in case anyone thought I was coming off as some humorless curmudgeon. Age allows for wisdom to take hold, but it may also provide a medium for reducing the juices of prejudice, ignorance, and stupidity to their very essences. Youth presents it's own excuse in exhibition of feckless traits. Maturity of years does not. My wisdom resides in the learned lessons of time and circumstance...in that I'll always prefer to hire a carpenter of 30 years experience, versus one of virtually none (not all prejudices are unfair, or unwarranted).]
