I had five instructors during my PP studies, and they were all 5-10 years younger than I was (I think). Even the stage check guys. Not really generation-gap material... but it may have been a factor with a couple of them.
The obstacles were (on my end) the annoying habits some of them had: one of them, who was otherwise a really good instructor and a good stick, seemed to always remind me of some thing or twiddle with the radios just as I was about to do it. It was uncanny.That extra beat I used to take really irked him, and he in turn irked me by being impatient (we're not talking "seconds count" situations here, BTW). And rather than simply list the successes and failures of each flight during the debrief, he'd usually act exasperated. I wasn't doing
that badly, even on those flights when I was not at my best... I guess it was just his temperament.
My favorite instructors were more "type B"... thorough and strict, but relaxed and not afraid to feed me a little rope to see what would happen. They understood how useful that can be. I think it prepares you for when you start making boo-boos on your solo flights, and of course later when they turn you loose... you note the fault, correct it, and move on; there's no need for drama.
And those guys were also very interested in my thoughts on what I'd done well or poorly... the student's perspective is, of course, vital when trying to evaluate their progress.
Looking back, I made more progress in less time with those guys.
My most recent training sessions were on a whole different level, and not just because I was learning to fly a taildragger... between his "elder" status and the fact that he'd been flying for over 40 years, including a stint in the Navy, that guy was like a Grand Master who'd perfected the "Art of Teaching Without Teaching."
He made it fun and easy to take on what was at first a daunting challenge. It's easy to assume that a 200-plus-hour PP is not going to make a seasoned instructor excited, but I sure gave him a couple of good reasons during those flights!! The bouncing! The perilous taxiing! The nearly-disastrous groundloop!! He just chuckled and waited for me to say what I thought went wrong, then calmly corrected me if necessary or added a side note, then cheerfully encouraged me to go ahead and try again. He was the perfect companion in my battle to overcome my fear of wheel landings... it was like having Yoda back there. And yes, when I first did one solo, I could hear his voice from afar, with lots of reverb.... "stick forward... no, all the way... okay..."
He's probably not as sharp as he used to be, but the knowledge and skill are still there, along with the great humility and patience you get from an old hand like that.
I felt privileged to fly with him... and if I end up instructing at his age (assuming I ever get around to that... or live that long!!), I hope I can be half as good an instructor.