31 December 2003
What a year this has been.
I could have predicted turning 50 it's a simple matter of doing the math but pretty much everything else has been something of a surprise.
I mean, I certainly wasn't planning on moving this year. And I definitely was shocked at the death of my younger sister.
There is perhaps less surprise in my perceived shift to the right; I think it's less a change in me than it is an increasing unwillingness to put up with people like this. The Sixties taught me to question authority; with the leftish notions of the day now enshrined as "mainstream," it seems only logical that I should question them as well. This is not to say that I'm willing to buy every last idea floated by the minions of Shrub Industries; I have learned, however, that very often the merit of a proposal can be determined simply by looking at the opposition, and said opposition, when it comes from my fellow Democrats, is too often shrill when it needs to be sharp.
But that's just politics, just one aspect of Life in the Teeming Milieu. What matters now is keeping up with the changes, and I find it sort of ironic that the changes are accelerating at precisely the time when I, older and greyer, am slowing down. Of course, it was always thus, and always will be. And the world isn't going to stop for me to opt out something else which it's taken me a long time to learn.
At fifty, I am arguably old. It will be noted that I didn't die before I got this way. Eventually, of course, I will; at the moment, though, it seems like a waste of time to think about it.
And that, too, is a change.
(Update, 2:20 pm, 4 January: In an effort to rid myself of multiple troll comments, I accidentally deleted this entire post. I have restored it from a backup copy and have reposted the original comments, though their time stamps won't match the originals.)
Posted at 8:00 AM to General Disinterest
What's gets me is that most youngsters live in the present (within the next weekend), while elder older folks tend to think ahead more and more as we approach the end. Seems like it should be vice versa.
I am one of the oddballs that finds value in aging, body woes and all. Instead of wondering about the "meaning of life", I am now content in my failure to comprehend it. I figure I'll "get it" just as I lose it.
There is much truth to the adage "You're only as old as you feel." To say that fifty is "old" is merely a reflection of one's personal identity with that age and nothing more. I read your "No Comment" and you're making yourself feel old with your mathematical equations "proving" how old you are. I, at fifty-two, have really never felt better nor have I looked better, to tell you the truth. Fifty is adolescence to the octogenarian; it's ancient to the teen; the bottom line is that age is the most relative of terms and the least kind to those who don't see it as such.
You moved. That's a huge step. Now, for the second half of your life, get up and move AROUND. There's an entire world out there ready to allow you the freedom to be as young as you want to be.
ps - You knew you wouldn't get sympathy from me.
"Second half"? I'm due for 100 years? The mortgage company will be happy to hear that, I'm sure. (They're counting on 79, anyway.)
But one thing is for sure: the more I sit, the harder it becomes to stand. A good argument for moving around all by itself.
Well, if you start THINKING "second half", you just might MAKE something near 100. If you keep referring to yourself as decrepit, then you might as well sign over the mortgage right now to Eternal Peace, Inc.
I feel better this year than I did last year at this time, for what it's worth.
Then again, this could be just an echo of George Burns: "I can do anything now I could do at eighteen, which shows you how pathetic I was at eighteen."
One thing is for sure: I'm too cheap to foist off the yardwork on someone else. :)
Me too :) It was tempting but when I added up how much I could spend on something else if I only took care of things myself that did it for me.