As I near the end of a nominally successful electrical engineering career that spans the humble analog beginnings of automation to the roboticized present, I can look back and smile at what a smart-assed punk kid I was, deriding the old-timers with snot-nosed comments and the immeasurable over-confidence of youth.
Barring an early death, everyone gets old. Know what? I neither desire nor require the respect or veneration of the young. I got mine. As jobs get scarcer and pay less with each passing year, all I can say to the smartaleck young snerts is, "Suck it. See you in St. Croix."
On the other hand, ask me nicely and I'm happy to lend a helping hand.
Respect is a two-way street with no speed limit.