Fun with overheard conversations

I pass a couple of teenage boys — maybe 16 or 17 years old.  Relatively typical, they speak in slang I am not terribly familiar with which is derived mostly from hip hop, and are dressed as one might expect that age male to be, uber casually.  I recently heard some musing from Gore Vida, against the culture of our public education system, a sentiment that I can be sympathetic with to a certain degree, “I have never met an uninteresting 6 year old.  I have never met an interesting 16 year old.  What do you suppose happened in between those two ages?”  My answer is to point out that whatever else one can say about the 16 year old, they are not going to live their lives to impress Gore Vidal, nor should they, so the point is largely moot.

That is a digression.  The two teenagers were followed a few yards behind by two white-haired elderly men.  I will say they were in their 80s, perhaps.  Now here is the question I leave you, and I’ll lead a trail down to the bottom of this page that will answer the question.  What did one of the elderly men say in reference to one of the teenage boys, a statement as cliched, as quasi-witty, and as curmudgeony as one will ever get?

Think hard, but it’s best not not to overthink, because my guess is a little underthinking will be more helpful in guessing the answer.

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“That poor boy’s pants are falling down.” 

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