I turned 70 a few months ago and I feel fine so far. (Knock on wood!)
When I was in my youth, I considered such an age positively ancient; in fact, I didn’t know anyone that old, even my grandparents. I’d see the TV commercials for dentures, trusses, burial insurance, eyeglasses (!), etc. and think to myself how miserable those old farts must be.
Now I’m one of them.
Actually, I’m thinking that my concerns were overblown a bit. Life doesn’t end at 40, or thereabouts, like I used to think. In a lot of cases, it actually gets better.
Try to sell that story to one of your grandchildren and you’ll get the “vertical stare”.
When I was a teenager in school, my biggest priority, other than doing my homework and sports, was finding ways to hide the boner that I had all day at school. Of course, there were pimples, the bullies at school, parents who didn’t always “understand” (although mine were pretty excellent, I must say), and my awkwardness around the females. I was pretty shy, didn’t know exactly what to say, and was, of course, clumsily making conversation with them with my notebook covering my crotch. It was a miserable time, come to think of it. Hollywood has made many movies about this.
After high school, I was a big-shot lifeguard, a frat guy in college, and made up for lost time with the ladies. Talk about playing the field! It was an exciting time, for sure, as I tried to find out who I was, what made me tick, and figure out what women were about. I studied, worked, and dated pretty much constantly during this period; “Burning both ends of the candle” would be an apt description.
In my twenties, I was developing self-worth by serving in the Air Force, learning a skill, finishing college and taking on a ready-made family (a wife and four boys). That’s a lot of responsibility. Plus, I embarked on career in public service, which I knew in my heart, was the right thing for me. So, I kept busy learning my new trade and tending to my new wife and family. I was pretty physically fit during this period; I still skied, played basketball, golf, baseball, and goofed around with the kids in the yard.
In my thirties, my career ladder visualized before me and I made great strides becoming valuable to my employer. It turned out that I had a lot of different skills (a head for numbers, writing, speaking, analysis, creativity) and my employer (the County of Riverside) used me in various capacities in planning, engineering, budgeting and public relations. I was becoming a key employee (out of 12,000) and felt like I had arrived, somewhat. At home, my marriage was working out wonderfully, and I was enjoying being a Dad. Our family income was at the point now that we could do some extra things like vacations…with and without the kids. We had achieved the American Dream.
In my forties, I began to realize that my body was getting older. Small injuries would take awhile to heal, and I began to limit the strain I was putting on my body by giving up skiing, throwing the football to the kids, distance running, etc. I settled for easier activities like golf and running on a treadmill. Charlie and I had more disposable income now so we began to travel more, particularly when the last of the kids moved out and we were living alone. I was, at that point, over fifteen years into my career with the County of Riverside and was at the “department head” level. So, I was becoming known to the Executive Office and to the Board of Supervisors, and they relied on me. I enjoyed their trust and my confidence grew.
In my fifties, I was on top of the world professionally…I was Deputy C.E.O. and was a main “player” in any matter having to do with public works planning policy. The County was doing some heady stuff at that time, and the Board valued my judgment on many topics. I lunched daily with the C.E.O. and a few of my peers…we were basically the “braintrust” of a billion dollar enterprise. It felt good. And, at home, my wife was thriving socially and in her own business, and our children were all doing fine off on their own. Physically, I was still golfing, but not running; my knees were beginning to wear out. I had a few procedures like knee and shoulder orthoscopy to extend the life of my working parts. I was still a pretty fit guy, although maybe 15 pounds overweight. I climbed Mt. Whitney up and back in one day, which would tell you that there was still a lot of tread left on the tires. It made me feel alive, too. Another thing which helped me feel young was spending a great amount of time with my grandson, Craig, as he grew from 0 to 5 years-old. We had all sorts of fun and adventures.
In my sixties…well, I was fully retired by then, so I occupied myself with other things, like training and having fun with our dogs, riding my horse “Louie”, getting back into golf, taking up bowling, hiking, writing books and traveling. It’s like there was not enough time in the day to get everything done. Charlie’s business had grown into a monster by then, and she needed my help during really busy times. And, when we weren’t busy doing those things, we traveled…a lot. And, then, we began to RV travel, first with a trailer and, later, with a Class A motorcoach. It was a lifestyle that allowed us to get out of Murrieta in the hot months and travel to the cooler areas of the country with our children…the dogs. The only down side was Charlie’s business; the fact that we had to take it on the road with us, so that my wife wasn’t able to really decompress. Our RV vacation became a “workcation” for her. So, much of my later 60’s were difficult at home (and on the road) because of the stress Charlie was under, business-wise. We had more arguments and such…something we’d never done in our earlier married life together. So, I’d say that life during my 60’s was “mixed”; a comfortable life, lots of options, fun most of the time, but more stress in the marriage as Charlie Manning Bookkeeping outgrew my wife’s ability to handle it by herself.
The Seventies promises to be a good time for Charlie and I. We’re both healthy, we’re financially well off, and Charlie is passing along her bookkeeping business to our son Jonathan. So, this will decrease the stress level significantly around our house. We’ve been unhappy in our neighborhood for many years (another stresser), and we’ve decided to move. This will provide another “chapter” and “adventure” for our marriage. We will find a house and fix it up just like we want it. Our RV is in tip top shape, good for many years of traveling, and we’re going to make the most of it. I’m still in good enough shape to climb mountains (small ones!), and golf and bowl (as long as I get my cortisone injections!), and the dogs are still active and fun to be with. So, the future looks great. (Knock on wood!).
If my grandchildren were to ask, I would tell them that, sure, it’s fun to be young, athletic, virile, and devil-may-care. But, real happiness comes later when you’ve matured, you have confidence, you have wisdom (“been there, done that”), and you’ve (hopefully) reached the point where you begin to reap the rewards of your hard work. And, if you’re lucky, the lust will have turned to love that will have turned into something much more…a oneness with your life partner, a lifelong adventure that only grows more fuller with each passing day. It is something that a teenager can’t even visualize; it seems so far-fetched. But, it’s out there, within your grasp, if you dare to strive for it.
I may change my mind on all of this if I break my hip tomorrow.