By the time we reach a certain age, many of us have developed at least a few rules of thumb by which to live. These rules offer an assurance and stability that help us navigate through heaving seas. Some of the rules may have been handed down to us by our parents; others are our own invention

To cite one that I have invented, let me regale you with my first law of economics: “Expect the level of your expenditures to rise inexorably until it meets the level of your income, or probably surpasses it.” This rule makes living with debt seem normal.

Writing books with such rules is a tradition that goes far back in English literature. The most famous American example dates to 1733 when Benjamin Franklin published his “Poor Richard’s Almanac.” That small volume comes filled with maxims designed to help readers live well.

Franklin’s sayings are pithy and pointed so that they have been often quoted. Among them is the famous dictum: “Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.” The most recent edition of Bartlett’s Quotations has dozens more of them.

Now another rules maker has come along, namely Roger Rosenblatt, the writer and television commentator. His “Rules for Aging” is witty, acerbic, and ambiguously tongue-in-cheek. The book’s subtitle warns you what to expect: “Resist normal impulses, live longer, attain perfection.” Slight though it is, this slim volume will stir many readers to amusement and, occasionally, serious thought.

Rosenblatt provides 58 rules in all. Some of them are immediately clear and need no explanation. For example, “After the age of 30, it is unseemly to blame one’s parents for one’s life.”  The need for this rule is certainly confirmed by experience, even with people long past 30. Think of the current literary vogue whereby authors of allegedly mature years badmouth their parents for their own problems.

And in this same category: “Just because the person who criticizes you is an idiot doesn’t make him wrong.” In commenting on it, Rosenblatt instructs us: “Treat all criticism as if it has been produced by the monkey with the typewriter; that is, see it as a lucky shot that happened to hit the mark.”

The wisdom in this next one is easy to appreciate: “Never attempt to improve anyone, especially when you know it will help.” I blush to admit how recently I have violated this absolutely essential rule. Keeping it would have saved me much grief.

A favorite duo of mine are the what the author calls “male and female compatibility rules.” They go like this: “a) She’s right. b) He’s really thinking about nothing. Really.” No commentary from me putting a price on these two nuggets of wisdom is needed.

Other good rules follow but I will not show myself so shameless as to keep quoting from the book. Go read it yourself. If you like sophisticated playing with the vagaries of human experience, you will enjoy it. The investment of an hour or so to read it will amply repay your time. Even if you take offense at some of poor Roger’s sayings, you might still be tickled into a sharp riposte or two of your own.

Roger, of course, is sometimes clearly wrong. For example, he warns “Attend no opera that begins with the word ‘Der.’” And right after, “Attend no other opera.”

As an opera fan from teenage years who loves, among many others, Der Rosenkavalier, I take umbrage at these instructions. (At the moment of writing, I am listening to the Verdi orgy on WHRB, the Harvard student radio station, an action that would surely draw heavy fire from Rosenblatt.)

The author also does not give enough space to one of my prime rules of thumb, namely, do not expect things to turn out well. For many decades this approach of low expectations has served me remarkably well. Perhaps it derives from the character of the first paid job I ever had. It involved putting ten small red feathers into an envelope all day for a summer.

Or from my second, gathering sheets of papers from the editors’ desk at the old Boston Globe, putting them in a steel container, shoving the canister into a pneumatic tube and shooting it up to the composing room.

How could I reasonably expect ever to have much of a job after this kind of start in the world of work?

Roger Rosenblatt, however, seems ironic enough in his approach to the world that he would sympathize with my philosophy of low expectations. He suggests as much when he states that five minutes of happiness is about all one should look for. He thinks people deluded in expecting long periods of being happy.

Try that approach for improving your life.

Richard Griffin