In Praise of Younger Men
Perhaps the most stunning thing I've learned is that, eventually, any age difference ceases to matter. What I ultimately found in Bronson is someone who shares not only my interests but my values, none of which, ironically enough, have anything to do with age: friendship, fidelity, faith, a love of family, shared beliefs and priorities. It's a side benefit that he's made me proud of the fact that I remember watching the live broadcast of the first man walking on the moon, that he laughs when he hears how I kept murmuring "Shut up, Walter!" because Walter Cronkite had an uncanny habit of speaking at the precise moment an astronaut (on the moon!) made a comment. His interest in my stories and the way he values my perspective makes me feel sorry for the women I know who keep quiet when certain historic events come up, as if owning up to "being there" devalues them, and so is something they hide or lie about.
And for that, I say youth is not always wasted on the young.
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