The Changing of the Guard

Witnessing a generational shift can be inspiring. But, if you’re part of the generation that’s being shifted or superseded and new stars are beginning to outshine you, then it can also be stressful.

As I slurped up my soup today at lunch (which, with the saltines and soda, came to $1.90, just within my new lunch budget) I reviewed the events of the last two weeks. I’ve been a bystander to all sorts of epic changes yet realized it only once I found myself in the contemplative company of some chicken noodle soup.

Although most of these cataclysmic shifts occurred right at my own golf club, the ramifications are in no way localized to a Westchester country club.

When I reached the 16th hole at my golf club last Sunday, I surveyed the Hudson River for the usual assortment of sail boats. I saw an unusually shaped barge floating towards NYC that I almost mistook for an aircraft carrier, until I realized that aircraft carriers rarely cruise up the Hudson. Only days later did I learn that the barge was carrying a new bridge, one that would replace the existing Willis Avenue bridge, in what journalists described as an “insta bridge” event. Out with the old and in with the new, all in one day.

Little did I know that at the same time I was trying to make sense of the aircraft carrier on the river, the pillars of my society were foundering. Tiger Woods was at that moment finishing 18 over, a career worst. More importantly, however, a younger couple defeated one of the most senior and celebrated golf couples at our club.

When you live in the present, it’s always too early to tell whether you're living a one-off aberrant incident or you’re witnessing history. I may not remember any of the details in 5 years but I'll remember that it happened. I’ll remember that there was a weekend—a moment—when it all crystallized and we knew were witnessing a changing of the guard—the new Willis Avenue Bridge replacing the old, Tiger’s plummeting status in the world golf arena, and the crowning of new husband-wife champions at my club.

This younger couple will become the new inspiration of the annual husband-wife championship (as well as undoubtedly other golf tournaments) with their names etched in wood in the grill room for generations to admire and emulate.

And maybe 20 years from now, having seen these names engraved often enough to incite envy, their own children and their children’s contemporaries will be gunning for it—first hoping, just once, to be listed alongside their idols* and then once listed, eventually gaining enough confidence and generating enough of a track record to erase those records altogether and replace them with their own.

As I scraped up the remains of my soup and transitioned to dessert (saltines, yum), I realized that my contemporaries and I are already at an age when we’re beginning to develop legacies.

All of this left me curious about how society at large might see my history to date, my nascent legacy. So, like the accomplished narcissist that I am, I Googled myself (don't pretend you haven’t done it).

1st Hit: my position at my law firm. Yawn.

2nd-4th Hits: articles I’ve written about the hedge fund industry. Double yawn.

5th Hit: A testament to my paltry support of The Morgan Library and some random Democrats. Proof that I’m not exactly a financial powerhouse.

6th Hit: A reference to being Ivy League Player of the Year, which would almost be impressive were it not for the fact that the sport was gymnastics and everyone knows that college gymnastics is hardly as competitive as what occurs pre-college. I had a foot in the gymnast’s grave and was competing against other athletes well past their prime. Big deal.

As I looked at the hits, I knew that this was not the stuff of legacies—these were more like accidental appearances in the game called life. I don’t know what my legacy will be yet but even single people have legacies, whether they like it or not. I suspect creating some form of legacy will involve less time drinking and arm wrestling* in the grill room and more time being productive, like chipping and putting.


Notes
*Although I am told there are few moments as joyful in the parenting process as when a child excels beyond a parent, I'm not convinced my fragile golf ego could handle the experience.

*Despite having started doing push-ups in earnest a year ago, I was defeated almost immediately.