I don’t see any way to avoid it any longer.
I envisioned this blog to be a sort of journal, my daily musings and that sort of thing. I had hoped to keep such things as age out of it, but the matter of the fact is: I am an old guy.
I hate to admit it. In my mind I’m still 23 years old, but you wouldn’t have to look very long at me to know that I’m not 23. I’m not even 53. Realizing that you’re no longer young is something no one really wants to admit. We all work very hard at not being old. We rationalize it by saying such things as: “I’m still pretty young, I’m not 70 yet” or “I don’t act or look or feel as old as ‘so and so’ who is younger than me” or “sixty isn’t really that old. Sixty is the new 40. I could still have 30 or even 40 years left.”
The fact is, I am a scosh older than 60 and when I was a kid sixty was old (actually, 60 was OLD). Seventy was real old. Eighty was really, really old. Ninety was too old to think about and to live to 100 was almost impossible.
I’m sorry, all you other 60, 70, 80, 90 and 100 year old kids, it’s still the same, even though now that we’re here it doesn’t seem the same. We seem to have more fun than those old folks we watched back when we were in our 20s seemed to be having. We knew those old folks couldn’t run or dance or move or make love or even think as well as we could. They were slowing down and we were still speeding up.
While I desperately want to stay young, my body tells me I’m getting old, maybe even that I am old. I rarely had more than one part of my body or one place in my body hurting at a time when I was as little as five years younger. Right now, I can count four places that hurt and six that hurt on a regular basis.
I am also far more overweight than I want to be and I am more overweight than I ever have been. In the past I adjusted my diet and jogged in order to take the weight off. Now, while I am able to adjust my diet, I am no longer able to jog. I am also unable to do any sort of strenuous exercise that involves my legs or knees (two of the four body parts that hurt right now). I’m looking forward to warmer weather in the hope that I will be able to jump in the pool and jog in the water. I’m told that might take some of the pressure off my knees.
About eight months ago I went to a wedding. At my table were a bunch of “old folks,” some younger, some older than me, but all of us were older than the average age of those at the wedding. When the music started I, like all the other folks at my table waited for the “slow” music. A couple swing tunes were played and a danced two both of them with my youngest sister. Then they played a rap song and we stayed out there. Eventually, I was dancing much like my nieces and nephews who were in their 20s. “Don’t let anybody say, we old folks can’t keep up with the young kids,” I thought.
I had a great time and after it was all over a young guy, about 20 came up to me and very seriously, with no hint of sarcasm told me that he had enjoyed watching me dance. That seemed to be the consensus of my nieces and nephews, that they were very surprised I was able to keep up.
Fortunately, none of them saw me the next morning when I could hardly move. Both knees were throbbing. My lower thighs were burning. Every step was agony! Now, eight months later one knee still hurts and sometimes throbs and the thigh below it sometimes burns.
I hope I don’t sound like I’m moaning or whining. That is not my intention. I’m just trying to set the stage for the fact that, while my body is telling me I’m not a kid anymore, I’m still pretty happy with my life.
It has in no way been the smashing success I hoped it would be when I was in my 20s, but it also has not been disastrous. I am not a millionaire. I am not famous. I am not outstanding in any field. I am divorced. I am overweight. I am not prepared to retire.
On the other hand. I am not in jail. I am not dependent on drugs or alcohol. My health is probably very good for a person my age. I have a daughter who loves me and whom I love very much. My ex-wife and I continue to be very good friends. I have live in a place I am very happy to be. I have a job that I enjoy enough and pays well enough to meet my needs. I have two dogs who are great company.
In short, I can lament the past, but there’s no value in hanging around there because the present is still worth my time and effort. In fact there is another wedding coming up in less than eight months and I plan to be out on the dance floor and if my knees hold up, even though I know what could be coming the next morning, I still intend to have the most fun I can have.
kewl enjoy your life