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Frumpy Mom: No one listens to me. But they should.

February 25, 2026

No one listens to me. Even though they should. I’ve been around long enough to remember ashtrays in hospitals. I know stuff. A lot of stuff. Which I’m happy to share with others. But, still — tragically for them — no one listens.

Oh, they pretend to listen, while they’re looking down at their crotch secretly scrolling on their phones. But they don’t actually hear the brilliant bits of golden wisdom I’m trying to impart to them, as evidenced by the fact that they promptly do the opposite of whatever I’m recommending.

Some of you may be familiar with this problem, although nowadays I guess you’re supposed to say “challenge,” on the theory that it somehow makes things better.

If you’re reading this, you, too, may have survived the Ice Age and also know stuff that no one will care about. Admittedly, these days no one wants you to teach them how to use a fax machine. Or how to sew on a button, when it’s so much easier to just throw the shirt away.

Warren Morimoto's upholstery Singer sewing machine is seen at in Cruising J-Town: Behind the Wheel of the Nikkei Community exhibit at ArtCenter College of Design's Mullin Gallery in Pasadena on Friday, Aug. 29, 2022. The Japanese American National Museum exhibit in partner with ArtCenter honors Japanese American car culture. Morimoto ran MotoStyle in Long Beach and studied at ArtCenter. (Photo by Sarah Reingewirtz, Los Angeles Daily News/SCNG) — Warren Morimoto’s upholstery Singer sewing machine is seen at in Cruising J-Town: Behind the Wheel of the Nikkei Community exhibit at ArtCenter College of Design’s Mullin Gallery in Pasadena on Friday, Aug. 29, 2022. The Japanese American National Museum exhibit in partner with ArtCenter honors Japanese American car culture. Morimoto ran MotoStyle in Long Beach and studied at ArtCenter. (Photo by Sarah Reingewirtz, Los Angeles Daily News/SCNG)

But aging heads are crammed full of wisdom that younger people could find useful. As someone who I don’t remember once said, “A word to the wise is sufficient.”

For example, I warned my young adult kids against ever buying a black car. “They become a sauna in the summer and you can’t touch the steering wheel without third-degree burns. They show every molecule of dirt that enters the atmosphere. They’re invisible to other motorists after dark.”

I even recorded a video of their friend’s reaction after she bought a black car. “It’s terrible. Don’t buy one,” she advised.

Well, you know the end of this story. They both bought black cars, because they’re trendy. And that’s vastly more important than comfort or safety.

It’s even more aggravating when someone specifically solicits your advice and then ignores it. As Oscar Wilde said, “It is always a silly thing to give advice, but to give good advice is absolutely fatal.”

I always think about this when I ask the server in a restaurant what I should order off the menu, because it’s invariably something I hate.

“The Brussels sprouts wrapped in bacon are amazing!!!”

Well, I don’t care if they’re wrapped in caviar and chocolate truffles, I’d rather rub ground glass in my eyes than eat Brussels sprouts.

The recipe for Honey Miso Brussels Sprouts garnished with pomegranate arils is from Tara Teaspoon's cookbook "Delicious Gatherings: Recipes to Celebrate Together." (Photo by Yakir Levy) — The recipe for Honey Miso Brussels Sprouts garnished with pomegranate arils is from Tara Teaspoon’s cookbook “Delicious Gatherings: Recipes to Celebrate Together.” (Photo by Yakir Levy)

But then I read a server on Reddit saying how insulting it is to have their advice ignored, so I stopped doing that. Now, I pick two alternatives on the menu that I know I like, and ask the server to choose between them. This seems to work much better.

As you know, my hobby is travel and I sometimes get asked for my expert advice. I love to give it. In fact, I worked as a travel agent fresh out of college and it was one of the favorite jobs I ever had. But the travel industry is unsteady and my company went under in the first recession, so that was that. However, I still love to give advice, and I almost get piqued if my friends go somewhere I know and don’t ask me for my thoughts.

I’m lucky enough to have a stable of friends who are world travelers, and I pump them constantly for information. Decades ago, my friend Teri’s advice when I asked her about going on safari in Africa was “Get a Lonely Planet,” and I bought that guidebook for independent travelers and it changed my life.

Marla Jo Fisher/SCNG

Ben Camp of Orange watching elephants from the safari van in the Masai Mara game park, Kenya. (Photo by Marla Jo Fisher/SCNG 2021)

So I don’t mind when people email me for travel advice, but here’s how they do it: “I want to go somewhere warm for five days in May. Where should I go?” How could I possibly answer that question? What is your budget? What do you like to do? Who is going on the trip? How old are they? Domestic or international? Driving, flying, cruising or taking the train? What do you want to get out of the trip? Are you a Christian pastor or a drug dealer?

I might like museums. You might like ziplines. I like going on my own. You like package tours.

I no longer get sucked into these situations, because invariably the people email me back and say, “Thanks but we already booked an all-inclusive in Turks & Caicos.” I’m not a fan of all-inclusives. If you get there and you don’t like the food, you have to pay twice to go somewhere else to eat. There’s always pounding, migraine-inducing music at the pools and too many clueless people who aren’t even sure which country they’re in, yet complaining about the service. “I don’t remember what country we’re in, but they don’t even know how to make a dirty martini for (bleep)’s sake!”

So I’ve just accepted that no one’s ever going to listen to me about anything. This doesn’t stop me from occasionally shooting off my mouth, you understand. I just don’t expect any results. It’s like the Buddhist conception of karma. You just have to make the right causes. The effects are someone else’s problem.

Frumpy Mom: No one listens to me. But they should. Orange County Register

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Frumpy Mom: No one listens to me. But they should.

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