I don’t know. I don’t know. And, I just don’t know. People don’t seem to realize just how exposing these three words can be. In the least the speaker admits to failing to gather the necessary information and at the most – ignorance, both are curable.  But, there is a third option; I don’t know what I don’t know, which really isn’t curable.

Not knowing what we should know seems to be a thing. But it’s always been a thing. Unless the medias shoves it down our throat, it’s easy to not know.  It’s also very easy to not want to know. I admit that I often don’t want to know why people are so animated, loud, angry, and just down right mean. And if I am completely alone on this I don’t want to know that either.

There’s just too much to care about and be informed of, my poor ditzy blonde brain can’t take it all. I do care, just not enough I guess. Wouldn’t that be the easier answer; to not care. Unfortunately I would know just how alone I was if that were the case. I guess I should care about that too; care about caring.

I really do care about what is motivating our younger population, what fires them into a tizzy, as I used to be one of them. And I truly appreciate the level of desperation they feel, the need to fix the problem asap. But simple knowledge would not cure my I don’t know, as it didn’t with my parents and their parents and their parents, and so on.

One thing I know is that I don’t know the personal relationship that goes along with the knowing of today. I did, in my day, I felt it deeply. And I sincerely apologize for my ignorance because it is ignorance, but it’s more like distraction on my part.

My distraction is my life. I’m distracted by what hurts the most when I want to get out of bed in the morning. Or, will the pain in my hands seize long enough for me to make coffee, dress, comb my hair and brush my teeth. I could also go on about the furry ones that I share a home with, not to mention their daily needs/messes.

Honestly, folks hovering around my age tend to talk about subjects the younger generations wouldn’t appreciate. Like medicine and medical procedures, or religion, politics, but the more gritty stuff, friends of friends, our kids/grandkids and what ridiculous antics rule their day, and our answer to our empty nest syndrome. Looking in one could think that we were merely gossiping, but we are simply dispersing vital information. We do discuss current events but with a “are you serious” tone.

So when someone of the gray hair persuasion says “I don’t know” maybe give us some version of a Senior Discount. We did know, we did care, but now we don’t know but still care. At least we think we care. Oh heck, I don’t know anymore.

E.T. Aka Annie