The Geezer Bandit

Sunday morning, when I turned on the radio, I learned that on the day before, the “Geezer Bandit” had struck again. This elderly man, wearing a blazer, dark pants, and baseball hat, typically presents a note to a bank teller demanding money, revealing a gun as he does so. Saturday’s heist was his thirteenth, in a string of southern California bank robberies that began in 2009, ten of them in San Diego County. The FBI and several banks have offered a reward of $20,000 for information leading to his arrest and conviction.

My reaction upon hearing this news - it was the first I had heard of him – was admiration, and before I could be ashamed of this response, I learned that the authorities speculate he might not be old at all. Perhaps the bandit is impersonating an old man, disguising himself to throw off the police. I was disappointed. I want him to be old. And if he is, I hope he gets away with it. When I told my wife of my reaction, she was appalled.

I wouldn't admire a young bank robber. He's simply a criminal working at a young man's game. The Geezer Bandit, in contrast, is more than a criminal. He's transgressing not only the law but also convention. He's defying the constraints of his age. Still, I don't admire Hugh Hefner's engagement to a girl young enough to be his granddaughter. Nor do I admire the 85-year-old Californian, recently caught at the Mexican border with 35 packages of marijuana in the trunk of his car.

The Geezer Bandit's exploits, unlike Hefner's engagement or the old-timer's smuggling, display exceptional boldness and daring. If these traits are useful for robbing banks, they are at least as useful for confronting old age. We geezers need plenty of courage for successfully meeting that challenge, and we, unlike the Bandit, can do so without fear of the police.