Why act my age?

After a few years of discomfort, I have somehow adjusted to being addressed as “Sir”. The formal reference has nothing to do with some knighthood or act of gallantry, unless it is now considered an honor to reach the ripe age of 56 with a full head of gray hair.

I must confess that for a few years I parried the term by gently coaxing people to just address me as “Cito” or “Kuyang,” meaning big brother, since it’s a role and responsibility I am very accustomed to. But after two or three futile years, it began to dawn upon me that people were not being respectful of whatever imagined status I may have achieved professionally. The sad reality was that I was officially in the category of respect based on age more than anything else.

That realization can be a double-edged sword. On one side, you realize that as cool as you may act or imagine yourself to be, you now run or trudge along with the silver foxes with wallets or phones full of their grand kids’ photos or images. That might be cool for some, but if you’re only just seeing your child through grade six at age 56, the prospects of keeping such photos are remote unless you have the same genetic makeup of Anthony Quinn or Hugh Heffner. Yes, that reference dates, me but how many other celebrities do you know who are starting on their fourth or fifth set of kids?

I tried to keep this “Sir” status together for sometime and have tried to “act my age” especially during public or social events. Somehow it is expected of you, even demanded of you. I think the reason is it has something to do with grade school or elementary days. If the grown up can’t have fun, why should the young ’uns have any. So it carries over, the only break coming from Silicone Valley and the army of computer program engineers who claim that fun at work results in work becoming fun, resulting in fun products that attract fun customers who have fun spending money, which may not buy happiness but can buy you a lot of toys, and that can be lots of fun.

Recently I realized that adults will act their age on an individual basis or appearance. We are either too conscious or concerned about public impressions about us. But if you put a bunch of grown ups together and throw in a “fire starter,” chances are grown men will ultimately turn into “kids.” Being a natural born “instigator,” I’ve proven how easy it is to make men turn to boys just by throwing a couple of water balloons. Soaked and stripped of their dignity, the little boy wants to get even and have some fun.

Last Tuesday, I proved this all over again at the Tagaytay Highlands where Covenant Cars, a.k.a. Chevrolet Philippines, launched their latest models — the Chevy Sonic and the Trailblazer. Part of the launch involved a few games such as which team can fill a Chevy Trailblazer with the most number of boxes in the shortest time. The second game was who can drive through a course in a Chevy Sonic, make a pit stop to write a “graffiti,” all in 2 minutes and 10 seconds or the closest. The third “game” was drive through another course, shoot down as many Angry Birds as you can with a giant slingshot and clock 2:10 minutes.

I don’t know if it was on purpose but I got lumped into a group of senior motoring journalists that had an editor, section heads and columnists. We were pitted against a young group of bloggers, video and TV hosts who were visibly uncomfortable about having to compete with their seniors. Even the organizers acted very circumspect towards us primarily because of seniority. We certainly did our very best to be competitive, our initial thought was to hot wire the Trailblazer and drive off for laughs. Failing to do that, we concentrated on speed and years of experience packing trunks with everything but the kitchen sink. Yes, the competition may have been young, but they had no kids or wives who always brought more than the car could carry.

The young ’uns politely assembled and discussed their plan when their turn came, unfortunately they never heard of the phrase: “Youth and enthusiasm will always be defeated by age and deceit.” Even before their turn, we were already busy hiding some of the boxes. A few landed behind the bushes, I threw one on a nearby roof, covered another with a green jacket while others kicked a box or two under the Trailblazer. No, it was not going to be good clean fun! We did not reach our age and not have survival instincts.

Yes, we tried cheating; we even applied verbal intimidation as well as putting doubt in their plan of attack. Fatherhood has taught all of us that the best way to distract a child is to rattle something in front of them. So we adjusted, we rattled them directly!

Needless to say, the kids were shocked! The organizers even more! They were not prepared to see columnists, section heads and editors transform from grown men to Jim Carey prototypes. Yes, these were the elderly “Sirs” they casually brushed off as “no contest,” now having fun at their expense. But wait, there’s more. Now that it was clear we were not yet “senior citizens,” it was game on at the testing track.

The one thing you should have second thoughts about is putting a “Sir” behind the wheel of a race rocket like the Chevy Sonic. I for one am very circumspect about my driving during such events, but when the young whipper snapper James Deakin also of the Philippine STAR put the metal to the pedal it was tantamount to throwing out an “I dare you” or let’s play chicken. I honestly couldn’t blame James as I soon discovered why the Sonic is one of the highest if not the highest selling hatchbacks in the US.

The car had all the power I needed, had all the space a city slicker could want, and because I truly felt safe in it, well don’t take it against me if I took Deakin’s challenge, tied him, and had more fun!

Ever since the Chevy event, I’ve had more fun acting my age. Just don’t ask how old I really am!

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