It’s around 1pm at Bob’s Diner and the big round table near the entrance is starting to fill up. They come from nearby towns, farms, and ranches to drink coffee, grab lunch, and, most importantly, talk. They are regulars at Bob’s and this is their ritual, their network. They gossip, lie, share their problems, celebrate their successes, ask for advice, and tell stories from their past. They are the self-proclaimed “Liar’s Club,” and my dad was one of them until he moved to California to live with me.

I love sitting around and talking with older people and hearing their stories. I feel compelled to qualify “older” by saying that it is anyone older than me, a 56-year-old member of the “sandwich generation.” I spent many hours at their table at Bob’s and I learned a great deal about these men. These tables must exist everywhere, in small towns and big cities. I’m sure that if I travelled to other parts of the country, I would find groups of men, 60 and older, sitting around a table in a café, a local club, or a park doing exactly what the Liar’s Club does—talk. No technology is required. No emails or cell phones are needed. All you have to do is show up, and if you don’t, that’s OK too.

After listening for a time, I started to find some commonalities, some basic truths shared by these men:

“I know and like who I’ve become.”
Overall they like themselves and are proud of what they’ve accomplished. They’re less concerned about what people think of them—no regrets and not afraid to be foolish. For them, active=healthy=happy.

“I’m making my own rules.”
They don’t have the desire or the means to take a 20-year vacation beginning in their 60s. It’s not over yet for them and there are no precedents anymore; retirement is a gray zone and they are working longer, but on their own terms.

“I still need passion and nourishment.”
They like that with age comes wisdom, but they want to continue to learn, to be inspired, and to have ideas. They consume all kinds of media—radio, books, TV, newspapers, and even the Internet. They also want to give something back through the church, a favorite philanthropy, or by helping out friends and family.

“I care about the journey, not the destination.”
Looking back is as important to them as looking forward, so things like reunions, photographs, and memorabilia provide the nostalgia. Communication is important to them, especially the storytelling. They face their issues head on, even the hard ones like illness, loneliness, and bereavement. They really are concerned about mobility, dependency, running out of money, social security, and family medical history.

I urge you to go out and find your own Bob’s Diner. Go out and listen and learn, across the generations. Stories are being told at this very moment.
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