I’m going to come right out and say it: “I’m a good guy.”

I’m not a saint or anything — don’t ask me for a kidney — but I am comfortable saying I’m a pretty decent dude. Yes, you could probably find instances from my distant past where my behavior was suspect. But this was before cell phone cameras, so I’m not too worried.

I can provide references, though I probably would not use anyone who was at that virtual meeting I attended.

I do occasional work for a West Coast periodical. Most of those who I’ve dealt with over the years I’ve never met in person, but through emails and phone calls I’ve gotten to know them and they me. I think most of them would say, “Biff’s a nice enough guy.”

Perhaps not anymore.

They had scheduled a team-building Zoom meeting, and being very part-time I was surprised I was included. While introductions were being made, the facilitator mention that I had not included any pronouns under my name. I thought she was kidding, so I said, “My pronoun is ‘them’. You know, because of my multiple personalities.” The older faces on my screen chuckled.

I offered very little input during the 45-minute meeting. Just before we signed off a gal was mentioned who I had known for decades but was not in attendance because she was in the hospital having surgery after a bad ski accident. The lady in question was an old friend of mine and there was a collective concern of her condition and prognosis. I said, “She’ll be back kicking our butts in no time — she’s one tough broad.”

Despite my original skepticism, I thought the meeting was a success. It felt good putting faces on those I have been electronically dealing with for years.

Meeting over, I was just about to head out to ski when one of the attendees called. He was someone I knew well, and was actually the boss. He said I had offended some of the group by not taking my pronouns seriously and my use of the term “tough broad.” He said a photo editor asked, “Who does he think he is, Jimmy Cagney?” He thought that observation very funny.

I told him I was sorry, but I think he knew I did not mean it. I also think he did not care.

Again, I think I’m a OK guy. But I’m a product of my era and in terms of many of the current sensibilities, I guess I sometimes say bad things. 

But in my and others defense, they have moved the goalposts. Stuff that was considered OK while I was growing up now is not. 

In high school, I got a lot of love while parking at a place named the “Paul A. Dever School for the Mentally Retarded” (actual name). The school was located in a town adjacent to the one where I grew up and shut down in the early 1960s. When I was in my teens in the 1970s, the buildings and parking lots were still standing and it was a favorite parking spot for many to sneak our dates away from the prying eyes of society.

Though the word “retarded” was widely used by the mental health community and medical books back then, it is now deemed offensive.

My parents were very proud of their Oriental rug that they had in our living room. I have no idea where they got it since the only foreign country they ever visited was Canada. When I was growing up, Asian people were often referred to as “Orientals.” No longer. The last time I had a real job my boss emphatically mentioned that to me.

And the term “homeless” has been changed to “unhoused.” Yes they are, but they are also “un-condo-d.” 

Prostitute is now a sex worker. My realtor friend says “master bedroom” is out, and policemen and fireman have morphed into “first responders. For the love of God, “old person” is now called “elderly.” I’m old — call me anything but late for dinner. 

And it goes both ways. Now some in the LGBTQ community refer to themselves as “queer.” I can’t bring myself to use that word because, until recently, that was a cruel term.

I will grant that there are some words and phrases that should be stricken from the general vernacular, but there are many others that are nebulous.

This will all be figured out in time after old dudes like me die off. But in the meantime, we should all give each other benefit of the doubt. 

“Let he who is without sin cast the first stone”. And she too.

Jeffrey Bergeron’s column “Biff America” publishes Mondays in the Summit Daily News. Bergeron has worked in TV and radio for more than 30 years, and his column can be read in several newspapers and magazines. He is the author of “Mind, Body, Soul.” Bergeron arrived in Breckenridge when there was plenty of parking and no stoplights. Contact him at biffbreck@yahoo.com.