The Lighter Side of China: Age

The Lighter Side of China began as a series of blogs written by author Scott Kronick that chronicled the experiences of living in China as an expat. Originally published on theBeijinger.com back in 2012, they have now been compiled into a book of the same name published by ACA Publishing Ltd. and available for sale at The Bookworm and online retailers amazon.cn, dangdang.com and Tmall.com.

To celebrate the publication, we are reposting a selection of Kronick's blogs. In this article, Kronick faces the implications of having lost the spring to his mortal coil.

“You are really an old man,” said my wife Lisa last week to me as I approached the half-century mark. “You should think about beginning to grow up a little,” she added.

“I don’t feel old,” I replied. “I still think that someday I can compete in the Olympics!”

“Dad, you can’t even beat me anymore in basketball or soccer,” said my son Samuel. “Face it, you are over the hill, dude.”

“Dad, will you PLEASE dye your hair,” pleaded my daughter Jacquelin. “You are so gray. None of the Chinese officials we see on television have gray hair and they’re even older than you.”

I then quoted Mark Twain: “Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.” To which my wife responded, “Honey, you have much more matter than you do mind … and I mind.”

Although I am turning 50 this month, this family dialogue is not a new one. My wife often introduces me to people as her third child. My daughter acts surprised when I respond to her with acronyms: “WTH Jacquelin, LOL.” Worst of all, though, is that my son doesn’t want me on his sports team anymore. He thinks I am the weak link.

It wasn’t always this way. As for my son, however, that’s the tough one. I used to give him a few pointers here and there in basketball and let him run around me on the soccer pitch, but those days are gone. I have to resort to dirty tactics to even step on the same soccer field with him. But my wife has always felt I was immature – I don’t even argue with her as there is a lot of truth there.

The problem I face is that my mind is really still very young. Whether it is food, television, sport, you name it, I often revert to my youth. I fight over M&Ms with my kids, much to my wife’s displeasure. I can eat a Big Mac in less than a minute, I watched every episode of Glee with my daughter, and I still try to dunk the basketball though I risk throwing my back out of shape. That usually is not a problem, since my vertical is less than one inch.

So what does this all have to do with China? In my experience, the Chinese are much more honest and realistic about age. Perhaps it has to do with life and economic circumstances. Or possibly it relates to culture and how people view and respect the elderly.

My mother, who has claimed to be “39 and counting” for the past 36 years, swears by her youth. She tells me age only matters in relationship to wine and cheese. In fairness to her, she has the energy of a young person, and in her early 70s she jumped on a train to Kaifeng to explore the smaller cities of China. But call her “old” and boy you are in the doghouse. One day, when we were out shopping, we briefly lost track of her in a store. When we found her, my wife said, “Mom, when I asked the store clerk if he had seen an old grandma-like lady, he said you left 15 minutes ago.”

My mom looked perplexed. “How did he know it was me? I am not old.”

"Mom, you are old, face it,” Lisa said. And they begun a conversation that I did not want to be around for. Fortunately, these conversations tend to morph into a discussion of Chinese appreciation and respect for the elderly, and this becomes more palatable for my mom to absorb.

I admire the respect that the Chinese have for the wisdom of the elderly, and for the responsibility they feel for taking care of their parents in their old age.

There are a few aspects of age in China that have always perplexed me, though. When my wife and I were first dating, she was in her late twenties – she used to refer to herself as old. There is some strange belief in China that single women past the age of 30 are too old for marriage. I have always found that a bit harsh and have encouraged those who feel they are past their prime (i.e. in their 30s) to go to the US. In business, old age in China is also not necessarily a predictor of “wisdom.” Given the rapid economic changes that have taken place over the past 20 years, the managers who came of age after China’s Cultural Revolution seem to have had better success in business. I attribute this to the fact that they perhaps don’t have as many “trust issues” as the older generation who bore the brunt of that part of China’s history.

The hardest part of growing older is not the physical stresses and strains of daily living on my body. I can deal with that. It is the part where my mind and body don’t seem to connect. The first shocker that I was getting older came in my early forties, when I realized I just didn’t like roller coasters like I had in my youth. My wife and I began to play Rock, Paper, Scissors to determine who had to go with the kids on the ride. Similarly, in my youth I used to enjoy the rush of driving fast in hectic traffic, but nowadays on the streets of Beijing, I buckle up in the cab and say my prayers.

It was also disorienting when I began attending parent-teacher conferences as an adult – I didn’t know how to act. One of the only arguments I have had with my wife was after a parent-teacher conference when the teachers expressed concern about a certain behavior of my child that my wife happened to notice mirrored my own. To this day, whenever I meet with my kids’ teachers, I get nervous. It is the same feeling I had when I was sent to the principal’s office in my youth.

The worst part of getting old, however, is remembering how I used to feel about people who were my age today. I remember turning 40 and celebrating: “At least I’m not 50!” I fell into a short depression this summer when hearing that in a few months I would qualify for membership in the American Association for Retired Persons (AARP). As an AARP member, I would qualify for a number of discounts, like at movie theatres, and someone informed me this week that I qualify for free coffee at McDonald’s or something like that. Woo hoo!

Let me say here and now, that AARP is for senior citizens. It’s too early for all that. I still remember my high school prom and I can beat my son in a wrestling match. And much to the disappointment of my daughter, you’ll never see me with Chinese-government-official dyed black hair.

Photo: Vimeo