Angry Old Men….

Am I one?

5 min readFeb 10, 2024
Borrowed image — angry old white man

I’m 62 and widowed, currently unemployed, and I’m a perfect candidate for old angry man.

Statistically, I should be angry!

We’re in a loneliness epidemic, hitting young men and old men harder than any other demographic.

There’s a grand-scale disappearance of the American middle class lifestyle, as factories evaporated and decent union jobs went away, leaving only shithouse jobs at Wal Mart and Home Depot for those who used to get union benefits and lifelong employment with a high school education. There’s an orange guy, a presidential candidate running on anger, blaming immigrants and ‘liberal elites’ and the old white guys are buying that story.

There’s legalized, unbridled racism and hatred against old white men, coming from ultra-woke people who want to blame slavery on the still living white men. Slavery was bad, but that’s an unreasonable blame assignment. Our media and social media engines have conspired to amplify hate speech, and the old dinosaurs who still watch TV and don’t have Instagram accounts are the target of most of that hate. The job market is heavily tilted against old white men, except for those who have lots of money and have accumulated a deep specialization, therefore can command high compensation for board seats and advisory positions.

There’s a digital underclass, people who never learned how to use computers and office tools. Old white guy is the mayor of this town. The more we alienate them, the grumpier they get.

Old white man with high school education has not learned much in the past 30–40 years. His brain wasn’t trained to stay curious, inquisitive and always seeking knowledge. This is a terrifyingly lonely place to be. Suicide rates for old white man are far above national average. Old white man is more susceptible to opioid addiction, even though his drug use hitherto was limited to Bud Light.

But I’m not angry.

I’m not angry because I long ago decided to give zero shits about who doesn’t like me, and instead to focus on my friends and family and my own personal goals.

I’m happy because after I got laid off last year, I started building an AI company and finally I have several companies signing up and becoming clients, so I won’t have to work for corporate America ever again — hopefully.

I’m happy because I ventured into dating apps after my beautiful wife Debi passed away 2 years ago, and after an intense several month of grieving and some early dating heartaches, I met an amazing lovely woman, and we’re 15 months into our fabulous romantic journey.

I’m not angry because I have learned over the years that anger does not serve me, does not help me reach my goals, and it makes me an unattractive human whom nobody wants around.

I’m happy because I got sober 22 years ago, and got free of the emotional prison that alcohol put me in: a daily escape from my feelings, so comforting, yet so crippling, it took me away from my ambition, my ability to show up in the world, and my resilience to face problems and bravely try things until something begins to work.

I’m happy because I’m not terribly impacted by who the president is. I’ll be OK and my friends will be ok, even if an orange dictator wins and we see baboon politics and hunger games for a few years. I don’t care, even though I strongly prefer when America has a president with integrity.

I’m happy because I embrace technology and business and progress, so I’m not intimidated by the future, I look forward to it. I like working with young people and feel encouraged and uplifted when I’m in a workplace that has lots of very smart 20-somethings solving problems with me.

I’m happy because I have practiced resilience for years — when a bad thing happens I accept it snd go to work on surviving it, then shifting my thinking from victim to survivor, then hopefully to thriver.

I’m happy because I wake up with a profound sense of optimism and faith in the human race. I turned off the TV 15 years ago and I read only long form analytical news, no clickbait headlines and no doomsday stories. I don’t give a shit who your favorite celebrity slept with last night and I don’t believe society will collapse next year. I somehow came to believe that little star in the sky is looking after me, and that as long as I remain resilient and ready to problem-solve, I’ll be ok.

I’m happy because I have managed to stay relevant and useful to society through the decades, and I believe I’ll keep doing so in future.

How can I help a fellow old guy feel better about life and his place in the world? Working on it… I’ll let you know.

Empathy muscle…

Honestly, I wish we din’t hate each other as much as we do. MAGA = hate, yes sure. But Democrats are equally guilty. They hate old people, white people, rich people, police, church, military, OMG where does it end? Young woke women love to hate incels (men who can’t find a girlfriend) — which exacerbates the isolation and loneliness these men feel. I feel sad for older men who have sunk into a grumpy disillusioned state. They will fare better when society is kind to them until they can be kind to themselves, then to others. If we could be inside the head of an old angry white man for a day we would understand better, and might be able to flex our empathy muscle, even if we don’t agree with, or condone rage. There’s a path from there to a better way of living, but only with empathy.




San Francisco geek, entrepreneur, wannabe economist, mediocre equestrian