“By the time you’re eighty years old you’ve learned everything. You only have to remember it.” George Burns (1896-1996)

My birthday is May 29th, so by the time you read this, I will already be 80 years old. I know I write a fair amount about my age in my stories, but we’re talking about my birthday here. By any standard, I’d have to be considered pretty old. Depending upon what resources you check, I am right around the peak in the actuarial charts monitoring longevity.

My father died somewhere in his mid-fifties when I was quite young. It felt a little like heading into no man’s land when I cleared those numbers. Actually, it felt kind of liberating, a chronological milestone for me. Every one of us has different time markers in our lives. I remember mine, starting with finally getting into my teens. No, I’m not going to go through all of them right now. They are all unique, without precedent, just like this one.

I have always looked forward to my birthdays, but this one feels much more like an accomplishment than the others. For quite a while, my future outweighed my history, more to look forward to than to remember. It was like time was on my side, before slowly realizing time doesn’t take sides, it’s what we do with it. It is also quite perishable, irretrievable once passed, increasing in value as it diminishes.

In school, we graduate, while in life, we keep getting left back. I think there is a real danger in believing we earn some kind of diploma with the passage of time. I keep learning how much I don’t know, with humility the byproduct. Every day I get to meet myself all over again, never growing tired of it. While my vocabulary hasn’t really expanded, many of the definitions change as I change. 

I want to be who I am and it has taken a shitload of time to get here. This state of being has nothing to do with measuring myself against any external standard, just today compared to yesterday. Education comes with experience and you can be knowledgeable without ever thinking you are smart, because there is always something new to learn. This is where I can sing the praises of mistakes, teaching forgiveness the only way you can learn it. 

I remember sitting on my stoop at 69-30 179th St. in Queens, NY. in the early 50’s. I had a little, turquoise transistor radio. You could carry the damn thing around without having to plug it in! Music was a big deal to me, even back then. The neighborhood was my universe. It was small and I liked it that way. The world exploded when I began elementary school. It was like taking the show on the road. I was a pretty good bullshit artist, even back then. There are actually some things that don’t change with time.

The future is now for me. Unless you are here, it is very hard to explain. The party has definitely gotten smaller. I remember, I used to look around to see who the oldest person in the room was. I pretty much don’t bother looking around, because it’s me. Like always, the trick is to just be yourself and it really takes time to grow comfortable in that role. As luck would have it, the less time you have, the more important it is. I know the coda is out there and exuding a sense of grace matters, at least to me.

Any age can be a trap, made especially challenging if how you are perceived forces you to change course on your internal journey. I can’t even count how many times I was thrown off course. Stepping out of my 30’s and clocking in to my 40’s, it felt like time for a major course correction. There were endless revelations throughout my life, but when the rest of my life transitioned from a vague concept to an irrefutable fact, it was time to step off the shore and swim in the river of tomorrow. 

The view is so different between looking forward and looking back. Of course, that applies to any age at any point in your life. It’s funny, as your eyes age and clear vision starts becoming more of a challenge, your understanding improves. The facts tend to become a bit more muddled, but your seasoned perspective provides a kind of clarity that can only come with time and experience. The “why” bumps the “what” from center stage. 

You know, just because I can write about this stuff, doesn’t mean I am at peace with it all. I am a world class neurotic and my inevitable departure is not a source of cool karma, not even close. I am not fooled into thinking my Zen practice has given me a pass from the panic that sometimes sneaks up me. My body is always around to remind me of my mortality. It is amazing how many times I punch of up symptoms, convinced that I will inevitably find a one way ticket for my departure. If you’ve had a car for a long time, you know it will start making a variety of noises and you just incorporate them into your vehicular routine.

I am not sure where denial fits into the overall spectrum of emotions nurtured by the years. Blasting into my 81st year certainly shrinks its influence. “What the fuck are you waiting for?” pushes that deception off to the side. Writing the way I do forces me to look at things I might not be doing back flips over to come to terms with. 

Being 80 is fucken old, no two ways about it. I hope some of you are younger than I am, because I really want to talk to all of you. I know it is very hard for many of you to think about being where I am and that’s the way it’s supposed to be. I know I am here for a reason and it has taken a lifetime to get here.

I’ll let you know when I find out.

LISTEN TO IT HERE:

https://www.buzzsprout.com/admin/1292459/episodes/17244917-80-is-the-new-80