Hey, Old Computery Ooteries. You’re still cute.
I’ve recently read an article and comment thread I have no business reading really. I couldn’t resist. The article was from that breakfast cereal, TechCrunch. I haven’t tried it and I do not know if it shreds the roof of the mouth.
Happening upon the story just a few hours after it was posted, I read it and even as I dismissed it as “not my business no way buddy” it stuck with me, and I knew I’d want to read reactions to it. The story was about how guys prefer young girls. Not really. But really. It was about how in Silicon Valley there is a habit of hiring young and a bias against hiring old. And to me, a woman who even when I was aged in the range for possible physical hotness was far too irascible to be approached, the article made me think of all the older computery ooteries as the first wives I’ve met.
I sympathized with the potential anger and angst I thought might appear in a comment thread somewhere. And it did in several places. I chose a longer one so that I could read many different perspectives and counter reactions. My official excuse for spending the time was that the author I had been wanting to read had no books at my local library and I had to request they be shipped. I wish I were cool enough to be unapologetically bitchy and say that I read with glee the comeuppance of the male species as they’ve apparently been handed their own shite and don’t like it. But I am not that cool. I really just wanted to see how they took the bad news. How they handled the heartbreak.
I feel the panic that the older fellows feel and sympathize. There is no heterosexual man who is looking for a woman my age no matter what qualities I have. Not for a real relationship. No matter how easy it would be for a man to have what he wants or to be happy and fulfilled with an older woman, the vast majority of men are going to pick fresher eggs even if they’re not going to cook them. And in my case, the eggs very well may have been recalled were there ever an opportunity to do it. So I do feel the ache a bit.
As I read the thread of reactions the young piped in and slid underhanded jabs all phrased in such a way as to make it seem as a self evident fact had been pointed out. Nothing personal, your breasts just give me nightmares thinking about how much they must sag. After all, you are not superhuman and gravity doesn’t give a crap about your personality. Yes. Women do it very well as they’ve had thousands of years of practice.
I must admit that I did enjoy the foreign terminology. It kept me afloat in what is clearly either going to become or is already an encroaching depression for these older men who will not be able to find good work. The argot alone was worth the read to me. Though I didn’t understand what each word meant it wasn’t difficult to see how the words could be replaced with relationshippy verbiage. Shoot, “ruby” could even stay in some places and it would still make perfect sense. I particularly enjoyed that.
A couple of mentions of possible unionization were made and at those mentions I felt what likely every slightly worried person reading the thread felt: A cocktail of equal parts hope and self loathing for that hope.
The bottom line for the companies it seems is about the booty no matter how casually yet politely stilted the replies were. The older will cost more and won’t last as long. The younger can be used thoroughly for a great long while and be trained to do one’s bidding, and most importantly, can be ditched before they get to prime cancer insurance sucking ages. And then I realized that in a way it is much harder for these (mostly) men than it is for a first wife. A company is going to tap that ass. The entity doesn’t age the same and it can go all night. But a man is going to eventually prefer good company.
Anyway, I titled the entry as a greeting and the tone it should take is that of commiseration as well as flirtation, not annoyance. After all, one of the things I have been able to maintain from my youth is the capacity to fall over myself in a crush over a guy who uses words I’d like to know. There is nothing so agelessly attractive as being interesting.
The tl;dr version is: Hey old computery guys, somebody out there will value you forever. Do not be afraid. Not really, but keep your collective chins up anyway. The scars you’ll get could be construed as sexy.