“When I stopped giving a f#%k!”

That was exactly what the old man said when I asked him to give me the formula to how it was that he lived such an amazing life. Especially in what most people would call the “glory” years. The old man was 84. I’d met him as a client in my barber chair, 5 years prior. What I’d always admired and appreciated about him was his authenticity and seemingly carefree way of living. He was recently retired, at the age of 75, from a 30 year career in the automotive industry. It appears the career had served him well. He had a wife and 3 children that are all successful. He’d provided a wonderful life for them. I’d met his children- 2 sons and 1 daughter- over the years. They always beamed about their dad and what he meant to them.

His wife worked as his business manager. That’s what he told me. He said that he wanted her to raise his children a certain way and so they agreed that she wouldn’t work a job outside of the home. She handled all of his and the family affairs. He told me how much he trusted her and that trust was how he established the faith and habit of believing that she was fully capable of doing right by the family. He worked the corporate job, she invested the family money into what is now a pretty divested portfolio. They own rental property, they have commercial land, they own 2 laundromats, and a healthy stock account. The children went to college and graduated. They vacation consistently. They have fun. The old man loves cars. He gets a new car every other year. His wife likes pickups, she has a heavy duty top of the line Ford truck with every bell and whistle available. They are a joy to watch and talk to. The wife often accompanies him to the barbershop. Most times she’ll drop him off and go run errands. Sometimes she’ll sit in the parking lot and read books while he’s there. The old man likes to hang at the shop. He’ll make an appointment for 3pm but arrive at 9am just to sit around and “shoot the shit” with us young folks, as he says.

The old man has this presence that always makes itself known. When he’s in the room, you know it. He speaks with a loud and confident voice. And he has this laugh that is so contagiously hilarious. Whatever he’s laughing at doesn’t even have to be funny but him laughing will tickle you. He’s a pleasure to be around.

Every now and then he and his wife come inside of the shop together. After all these years of marriage, they still hold hands and their bond is such a beautiful thing to see. The old man told me they’ve been married 50 years. He says that he’s known her 51 years. He says that he knew immediately that she was the one but he also knew that he wasn’t ready. They joke about how much they’ve been through together. She pulled me to the side one day and whispered, “… I’m not holding his hand. I’m holding him up. He’d fall on his butt if he had the chance“. He saw my facial expression and said, “… She probably telling you that I’m going to fall if she don’t hold me up. She not telling you that her father told her that she better not let me go. He knew I’d get my shit together one day. He didn’t want her to miss out. She’s been holding my hand ever since.”

They both laughed heartily. They’re always joking and smiling and laughing. It’s an inspirational experience, to sit and observe them. Pure and plentiful joy. They are so beautiful together.

The way they are around each other is why I asked the question, “When did you figure out the formula?”

“Formula for what?”

“For success. For a great life. For being a great man. For a successful marriage. A successful relationship. A successful life together.”

The old man grabbed my hand and pulled me towards him as we sat down in the waiting area. His wife sat on the other side of him. He grabbed her hand and their fingers interlocked. He put his left hand on my shoulder.

“When I stopped giving a f#%k. That’s my formula. I wish I would have stop giving a f#%k a lot earlier in my life. It took me a while to figure out that was my formula…”

He clutched his wife’s hand a little tighter and pulled it closer to him.

“…I had a good partner to play these hands with. I didn’t always have a good hand but I had somebody across the table depending on me. We played ‘em together. A bad hand played well beats a great one you don’t know what to do with.”

His wife chimed in…

“The man asked you for your formula. Tell him the secret to you being happy for all these years. You happy ain’t you?”

We all laughed.

The old man continued, “…When I can’t stand my wife, I talk to my best friend. There are days when I don’t feel like being so friendly but I always remember the responsibility that I owe my wife. She’s both of those people. When I can’t talk to her as my wife I can always talk to my friend. Some days I need more than a friend, I have my wife.

I wasn’t no husband when we married. I was barely a man. She believed in me. I barely believed in me. She knew I didn’t know what I was doing but she had faith that I’d get it right. She stuck by me. We married and started having children in our 20’s. Our first 20 years didn’t look like this. She didn’t leave me though. When I didn’t have nothing. I tried everything I could to destroy us. Not on purpose, but with all my mistakes. I had my issues. I struggled with some things. I went through hell and I put her through hell because she was holding on to me. We got kicked out of places. We were homeless. Cars got repoed.

She never left me. I ain’t never left her. She the only woman I’ve been with since I met her. But I put her through a world of hurt all the same. I had a spell of drinking and gambling. They call it depression now but I had some really dark times back then. I let her down. I didn’t get really myself together until I was over 40. In the meantime our family helped out a bit here and there. More than anything we counted on each other. She told me that she chose me and she knew her choice was the right one. So she fought for us. I watched her balance checkbooks and make due with little of nothing in them hard times. I had probably 20 jobs before I started with cars. She honored me just the same. Showed me a level of respect and appreciation that I didn’t even deserve, to tell you the truth…”

His wife interrupted, “… He was always a good man. Just needed some help. I saw it in him. And he treated me right. When he veered off into that bottle, he tried his best to get himself together. He needed somebody to not give up on him. I wasn’t gone give up on him. Wasn’t much of a risk in my eyes. When you decide on something, you stick to it. That’s how it gets done. You just gotta do it. Don’t think about what could stop you, fight for it. If it ain’t killing you, fight for it. I had girlfriends that had old men going upside they heads and having babies on them and doing worse. My husband just needed a good wife. My friend needed a good friend.”

We all laughed. Not because what she said was funny. I think we laughed because it seemed like they’d both been waiting for someone to ask them for their formula and here I was. They were responding like this was an interview. They were proud to share this information. It was information that they both wanted to be heard. Not just by me. It appeared that they wanted one another to be reminded that this was how they felt. It was beautiful. Something to smile about. We laughed.

The old man starts back… “… She always told me to stop giving a f#%k. Told me to stop caring about what everyone else was saying or doing. She kept on me about the pack of friends I had. My circle. She pushed me. She didn’t give up on me. Wouldn’t let me give up on myself. After while I realized that I didn’t need much else. Had a woman that believed in me and was willing to go wherever I was going. We talk. We’ve always talked. Even when I disappointed her, let her down, we were able to talk. When I let my wife down, my friend encouraged me to get back up. I ain’t make her no promises. I just did what I told her I would.”

“How’s it feel being married 50 years?”

The old man instantly responded, “I wouldn’t be here without her. She the best reason I got, to do right. She’s the 2nd reason I get up every morning. I’m the first. I’m the prize young fella. I wake up every morning with that. I know what I mean to me…”

He took his left hand from around my neck. While he was talking he’d grabbed me kind of closer. It’s like we were in a huddle. He was giving me the play that was going to win the game. By this point in the conversation he had his left arm fully around my shoulder and almost under him like a grandpa. I hadn’t really noticed until he removed it how far in he’d pulled me.

He took his left hand and covered his wife’s hands in his, fully.

“She’s helped me know that. She learned me that lesson. She ain’t never let me hang my head down ‘bout nothin this life dun put in front of me…”

The old man paused. An emotional pause. They’re looking at one another and I’m looking at them. Such a sweet couple. The moment felt like it should be recorded and played as an instructional how-to video on what a good marriage could look like.

Then the old man turned to me.

“This ain’t none of what you asked me, is it?”

“Kind of. I just wanted to know the formula.”

“Oh, yea, the formula.”

We all laugh.

“Son, you got to get to the point where you don’t give a f#%k. If you want something and believe in something and want to do that something, you got to let go of being concerned about what everybody but you feel about it. It’s the same with your people and who you make choice to be with. The quicker you stop caring about what erry’body else got on they mind, is the faster that you can get to caring about the only business important to you: You. That’s the formula. That’s the most important lesson this woman here taught me.

Man, I was messing up something terrible back der yonder. She used to tell me that I ain’t gone know if nothing work not trying to do it…”

The old man started laughing hysterically. What he had just said struck a nerve with himself. He started shaking his head and seemed to reminisce or reflect on some specific moments at the thought he’d just conjured.

His wife spoke…

“My grandmother told me that the best thing that I could ever do for a real man is to let him be a real man. And if he goes about the business of being a man then I wasn’t to get in his way. I always remembered that. When I met him I knew he was a real man. I felt my business was to always remind him of that.”

The old man was smiling from ear to ear. Beaming with a pride and joy that was so gracious. I started to understand him more right then. I felt like I had a really good idea of why they worked the way they did. Their bond made even more sense now.

The old man announced that he had to go to the bathroom. He got up and walked away. It was just his wife and I.

“He’s okay, isn’t he?”

“Other than having a head harder than that brick wall over there, yes, he’s fine.”

“I noticed that he’s been dropped off the past few times. And the joke you made about holding him up. I was just making sure.”

His wife started laughing.

“Baby, we drop him off here because of you. That old man thinks the world of you. He talks about you day in and day out, in between these haircuts. He believes that you’re going to be one of the most successful people that this world has ever seen. He is proud of you.

We come up here to witness your energy. Never heard him speak about a person having “energy” until he met you. We drop him off because he might not come home for being with you…”

“Really?”

I was shocked. I didn’t even know what to say. The old man was a cool old man to me. I didn’t realize that he thought that I was cool. That had never crossed my mind, how he felt about me.

“… Baby, you’re important to him. He talks about your conversations and your positive attitude, all the time! He says that he’d join your church in a heartbeat. You know he thinks you’ll end up being a preacher. He says that you’ll be some kind of leader one day. Tells us all the time that you ain’t got no business in a barbershop. You’re supposed to be on his tv, or on his bookshelf.

He thinks that you have a heart for people, and that heart has been broken. He’s been waiting for a way to have this talk with you for quite some time…”

She starts laughing again.

“… Oh child, he’s alright. Alright with leaving us, for you!”

Now we’re laughing. I was flabbergasted. She started telling me about some of the things the old man had told her about me. Notes that he took from our conversation. Phrases and slogans that I used, that I didn’t even realize I used, that he had written down. How he quoted me and mentioned me around other people.

I didn’t even know the old man’s name. I always called him “Sir”. We’d talked about a bunch of things over the previous 5+ years. I’d figured that to be his personality, hanging around and communing with us “young folks”. I never considered that he was particularly fond of me.

I was about to ask something else, or she was about to add something else, when the old man appeared out of the hallway from the bathroom.

“Back to this formula. Stop giving a f#%k! That’s what you need to do. You need to know that you’re okay. You’re going to be okay. Let that other shit go! It’s time to move on. It’s time to get up and live your life. It’s time for you to have all the things that you want. Time for you to do best by you. That happens when you stop giving a f#%k about a bunch of shit and people that don’t matter…”

His message wasn’t personal, it was personalized. It was to me. It was an indictment. It was specifically aimed at a target.

I’d asked a question, but I was being asked a bigger one. A better one.

“Son, you got a lot of life ahead of you. You’re going to do some damn good things for this world. Ain’t no doubt about that. I might not be on this here earth to see all of it, but I know it’ll happen.”

The old man motioned as if he was going to sit back down.

“No, come on, we got somewhere to be today. You still have to get by the store.”

His wife stood up and they clasped hands.

“Told you. She ain’t gone let me go.”

We all laughed.

I followed them out of the shop. I walked with them all the way to the truck. He opened her door and she climbed up. He closed it and he and I walked around to the passenger side. I opened the door for him. Before he got in, he had one more thing to say.

“It don’t make much sense caring about everything but you. If you don’t matter to yourself, not much else can. People that give a f#%k about any and everybody else don’t often take the right care of themselves. You understand me?”

I nodded in agreement.

I got word that the old man passed away recently.

It’s time for me to stop giving a f#%k.

-see

©️2023 Cornelious “See” Flowers