Every generation has a tendency to mock younger folks. It’s in the American DNA. My father did it, my grandfather did it, and now, God help me, I’m doing it. Recently, I had occasion to travel to New Hampshire with seven children ranging in age from 3 to 16. Don’t even ask how this happened. It was kind of like an earthquake: Things began to rumble, and soon there was destruction everywhere.

The primary purpose of the trip was to get the urchins away from their electronic gadgets and show them the wonders of nature. The fall foliage in Bretton Woods, N.H., was magnificent.