Tag Archives: age

October 18, 2025 · 5:48 PM

Okay, Bye!

Oh, what the hell!  It’s Tuesday afternoon, I have less than an hour on my work clock, and I went to bed before 7 p.m. yesterday.  Why not have some red wine!  My daily commute is about 20 feet (6.1 meters); that is, from the bed to my work laptop in a neighboring room.  That includes a necessary detour to the bathroom.  I try not to look at myself in the bathroom mirror – or any other mirror in the house.  I no longer look like a Greek/Italian/Mexican studburger who rode in on a black stallion.  I kind of look like the dirty old man parents warn their kids about.  Oh well.  I’ve had my fun.

Ever think deeply, while standing alone, and wonder if your body has suddenly decided it wants to lead a life of its own?  Well…I’ve come to the cold, brutal realization that mine has.  And I’m like, ‘Bye bitch!’  Don’t let me hold you back!

‘It’s hell getting old!’ my parents always said.  I’m starting to feel the anxiety.  I watched them struggle with the various pains of aging and could barely see myself in those same situations years from then.  I began to realize that I won’t be so fortunate to have good health as I do now.  Watching my Uncle Wes* deal with his constant physical struggles cemented that reality into my brain.  I’m about to make some modifications to both bathrooms, especially the shower stall, to help him navigate those spaces.  A few weeks ago he expressed concern for my future welfare.

“You might need this, too,” he said, referring to grab bars in the shower.  He’ll be 86 in a few months.

I have no one to care for me, if I ever get to be his age.  I never got married and had children, or just had children.  I never wanted to be a “Baby Daddy”.  I had wanted to be a husband and father.  But just tell the Great Creator your plans for the future and wait for the laughter.

I’ll be 62 in less than a month and hope to retire at age 65.  My mother retired at 70, but I’m certain I can’t make it that long.  I love my job, but I love time and solitude even more.  My ultimate goal was always to be a true writer, with no other necessary career just to help me get by.

A few years ago a close friend posted a picture on Facebook his daughter took of him after a visit to a vintage car show for his birthday.  He was kneeling beside a vehicle.  I congratulated him on making it to another year and then asked, “BTW how long did it take you to get back up from that squatting position?” with an accompanying laugh emoji.

He never answered, but that always comes to mind, whenever I try to get up from the floor after doing some basic calisthenics or squat down for some ungodly reason.  Yes, getting old his hell, but the alternative isn’t too pleasant.

Then again, I’m not “old”!  I’m vintage!  Damnit!

*Name changed

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March 29, 2025 · 7:28 PM

Social Living

“Social Security is the biggest Ponzi scheme of all time.”

Elon Musk, February 28, 2025

For elected officials here in the U.S., Social Security is much like a live power line: touch it and they’re done.  Social security, along with Medicare and Medicaid, is one of those sacred vessels of American life.  It’s not just beloved; it is sacrosanct.

Thus, for a foreign-born oligarch like Elon Musk to disparage it as a “scheme” has become anathemic.  As something of a pseudo-president, Musk is head of the newly created Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), which has taken a hacksaw to a number of departments within the federal government.  The declared goal is to reduce bureaucratic weight by slashing jobs and merging together certain divisions within the system.  Nowhere in this morass of right-wing blather is a dedication to make people like Musk and their corporations to pay their share of taxes.  But that’s a different issue.

To place things in proper perspective – and put elected officials like Trump in their place – social security has too many safeguards to be considered a Ponzi scheme.  Before the Social Security Act of 1935, a large number of older Americans lived in abject poverty.  At the time it was common for families to take in older relatives.  But some people simply didn’t have that support and they were left to fend for themselves.  The concept of providing for those who simply couldn’t work or take care of themselves is nothing new.  Various societies throughout history have considered the fragilities of the human condition and sought to alleviate those difficulties.  It is simply immoral to abandon those who can’t care for themselves.  It’s also rather easy to look at those who won’t take care of their own lives and group them with the others.

The Social Security Act has been amended several times since 1935, but it differs from a Ponzi scheme in many ways.

1. Social Security is not fraudulent

A Ponzi scheme is a deliberate a fraud intent to mislead investors.

2. Social Security’s operators do not take a cut

Unlike with Ponzi schemes, Social Security is not a profit-generating gamble, and the officials who run it do not take a portion of it for themselves.

3. Social Security is operated in the open

Social Security is a transparent, government-run program with clear funding mechanisms. 

4. Social Security has built-in oversight

Unlike a Ponzi scheme, Social Security has many layers of oversight, auditing, regulation and legal and financial systems in place to ensure accuracy and transparency. 

5. Social Security offers realistic returns

The goal of Social Security is to provide basic income replacement, not to generate get-rich-quick returns.  Ponzi schemes often promise unrealistically high gains.

6. If financially stressed, Social Security can adjust funding and/or benefits

A fiscal imbalance in Social Security can be corrected, but a Ponzi scheme can’t.  Social Security beneficiaries can’t demand to be paid a balance in their account if they suspect something is wrong.  There can’t be a “bank run” on Social Security, and problems ultimately can be resolved.

It doesn’t surprise me that Trump and the Republican Party are targeting Social Security, or rather that conservative Republicans in general haven’t struck back at the president.  Social and political conservatives have always been leery about government programs designed to help people.  Before Franklin R. Roosevelt’s “New Deal” policies (designed and implemented to address the brutal impact of the Great Depression), government’s primary purpose was to enact laws and collect taxes.  The collapse of the U.S. stock market in 1929 and the subsequent financial calamities that ensued changed that mindset – at least among the more open-minded.  Social Security was just one project resulting from such forward thinking.

In 1944, Congress passed the Servicemen’s Readjustment Act (later known as the GI Bill) to assist those returning from military service during World War II.  It provided a myriad of aid and services to these individuals, such as education and housing.  Again, many conservatives denounced it as welfare.

Similar criticisms befell Lyndon Johnson’s “Great Society” some two decades later.  From this massive undertaking, we got Medicare and Medicaid.  But, as Johnson declared, the government should ensure both “liberty and abundance” for all citizens – not just those who can afford it.  And as before, critics deemed it socialized medicine.

While it’s surprising that the U.S. federal government can operate with such alleged overspending – a bloated bureaucracy – it does provide substantial safety and security to most everyone here.  The attack on Social Security is monstrous.  Trump has sworn to leave it alone, but I personally don’t trust him.

I’m fast approaching the official retirement age of 62, yet I know I won’t be able to sit back in my quiet suburban home and embark on my dream life of being a full-fledged writer.  The Social Security system is supposedly insolvent.  Raising the official retirement age (as many, including Musk, have suggested) or reducing benefits won’t repair that problem.  Funding for the Iraq War alone could have made Social Security fiscally viable for generations.  Still, the program must be handled with care.  Touching it irresponsibly is, indeed, akin to touching that live power line.

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February 8, 2025 · 3:54 PM

And Life Continues

As many of you might remember, one of my best friends, Robert, died last October.  Late on December 23, I learned that another long-time, close friend, Carl, died earlier that day.  We had met in 1990 at the bank where we both worked.  We bonded over such mundane things as rock music and being Texas natives.

Last month I was equally startled to find out another longtime friend, Randy, had died following a freak accident at home; he fell down some stairs and never regained consciousness.  He passed away just days before his birthday.  We had met through a local Toastmasters group in 2001.  A veteran of the U.S. Post Office, Randy had finally retired a few years ago.

Thus, since October, I’ve lost three friends – and my already small social circle has decreased even further.  Damn!

As my parents often said, it’s hell getting old!  And here’s another adage: aging isn’t for wimps!

But, as I’ve discussed with a few friends over the past couple of years, I’m at that age where I lose relatives and friends to death and not because I owe them money.  It’s part of life.

In the late 1990s I saw a program on TV about people pushing the centenarian point in their lives and what their longevity secrets were.  None seemed to possess any mystical key to putting mileage on their personal odometers, but they all had one unique attribute that can’t be measured in facts and statistics.  They were able to accept the death of loved ones with few questions.  It hurt, of course – but they understood such things happen.  Our present realm is often brutal and cold.  People die.

But people certainly live.  And we can’t truly live if we break down every time someone we know and love leaves permanently.

Last year I came across an online editorial that noted millennials are referring to the 1980s and 90s as the “late 1900s”.  Well…they are!  And, as I told a close friend, I’m glad I lived through them!  So did he – who will be 60 next month.

I told that same friend, as well as a few others, that I’m happier now than I have been in years.  I have the same feeling that I did around the turn of the century, when the world seemed wide open and the future belonged to everyone with dreams.

For the most part, it still does.

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June 29, 2024 · 10:30 PM

Slow Motion Debacle

Anyone who watched the debate last Thursday between President Joe Biden and former President Donald Trump surely has a variety of words to describe it.  Mine are sad, pathetic, hopeless and frightening.  And those are the highlight adjectives!

I didn’t see it.  I had to do some writing and other work on my personal computer.  Plus, my genitals needed some extra attention, and I just couldn’t ignore them to watch two cantankerous old men exchange pithy barbs.  One good feature about the debate is that the microphone for whichever of the two candidates not speaking was muted.  I know that was incorporated strictly after the fiasco of the first Trump-Biden debate in 2020 – the one where a frustrated Biden blurted to Trump, “Would you shut up, man!”

If only both men could be muted now, I think we’d all be better off.  Americans – and people across the globe – pretty much know where they stand on particular issues.  Or where they don’t stand.

I recall the questions surrounding the health of Ronald Reagan when he ran for president in 1980; he was 69 at the time, and the voting populace (along with the media) verbalized their concerns about his welfare.  For the most part, seniority is respected and appreciated in certain fields.  Politics isn’t necessarily one of them, but experience does hold a certain value.  Reagan made the most of his age, even joking about it on occasion.  He held the distinction of being the oldest president until Trump.  In November of 2022, Biden crossed a new threshold when he became the nation’s first octogenarian Chief Executive.  And here we are.

I’ve always said the Democratic Party’s biggest mistake in the 2020 election cycle was to let Biden and Bernie Sanders run for president.  After leaving the White House as vice-president in 2017, I feel that Biden should have retired into the realm of a senior statesman; giving speeches, writing books and propagating democracy every reasonable chance he had.  The Democrats began the 2020 campaign with the most diverse collection of candidates, including more women than had ever attempted to run for president at one time and an openly queer man in their ranks.  Then they ended up just like the Republican Party – with two old White men at the top, Biden and Sanders.  Of course, one of those Democratic candidates, Kamala Harris, has become the nation’s first female and non-White vice-president, and another, Pete Buttigieg, has become the first openly queer cabinet official.

Like many people, I’d often mock older individuals in my youth.  Now I’m 60 and I know how that feels.  I don’t consider myself “old” in the traditional sense; my body has definitely aged, but I won’t let my mind collapse into senility.  But even I know this nation is in trouble with the likes of Biden and Trump as the primary presidential candidates.  And yes, it is because of their age.

The U.S. is rapidly approaching the 250th anniversary of its official birth as a nation.  Right now the future just doesn’t look too bright for us.

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June 22, 2024 · 6:20 PM

Graying Wolf

“Damn!  You’re old as shit!”  That’s what Dan*, a friend and former colleague, texted to me last year after I’d informed him that I’d just turned 60.

“And you’re so ugly you almost hurt my feelings!” I replied with a laughing emoji.

Dan and I have always had that kind of friendship – if one of us didn’t insult the other, we might think we were mad.  It’s a man thing actually.

I’ve had those so-called “senior moments” where I walk into a room and wonder why.  I find myself occasionally losing my balance and stumbling or literally bumping into something.  A bruise just below my left knee hasn’t healed after several months.  It’s like a dark, small-scale version of Jupiter’s “Great Red Spot”.  A night light in my bedroom is one that I used to turn off at 10 p.m. because I generally have to sleep in total darkness.  Now I keep it on 24/7.

Albeit a former gymnast and taekwondo practitioner, I can no longer do deep knee bends.  My left knee in particular seems to get caught whenever I bend it.  In March of 2021, a close friend posted a picture on Facebook of himself squatting beside a vintage vehicle.  His wife and daughter had treated him to a vintage car show for his birthday.  I congratulated him and then added, ‘BTW, how long did it take u to stand back up from that squatting position? LOL!’

Earlier this year I wrote how I moved my Uncle Wes* and his cat, Leo, into my home.  Wes had just turned 84, and – after a hard life – his body is slowly giving out on him.  I don’t know how much longer he has, but I’m glad I can provide him a safe home in these final days.  And then I look in the mirror and think, ‘Damn!  With any luck (if you can call it that) I’ll be his age.’

My father was 83 when he died in 2016, and my mother was 87 when shed passed away four years later.  I have a few other relatives who have made it into their 80s.  My paternal grandmother died in 2001 at 97.  Aside from their longevity, all of them had one other thing in common: they had loved ones caring for them as they aged.

I did get some good news recently, though.  I had visited a local urologist, mainly for general male-specific healthcare, but also because I’d noticed a significant decline in energy and focus over the past couple of years.  I attributed the latter simply to age, but I wondered if I needed testosterone replacement therapy; a growing practice for older men.  I had some blood drawn at the urologist’s office and then visited the doctor again to discuss the results.

And the results were phenomenal.  I measured 534 ng/DL (nanograms per deciliter) of testosterone, which puts me in the 35-40 age range.  Most men my age fall into the 300 spectrum.  I won’t necessarily reclaim my lost title of “Stud Burger” (or maybe I will), but to say I’m as healthy as a 35-year-old feels pretty good.  The urologist doesn’t want to put me on any kind of hormone replacement therapy (HRT) as that could eventually hurt me more than help.

So the only possible cause of my fatigue is the result of another blood test by my regular doctor more than a month ago: low sodium levels.  I grew up in the 1970s and 80s, when high cholesterol and too much salt in one’s diet became alarm bells of concern.  I remember talk in the early 80s of actually trying to ban salt in processed foods.  It was met with the same response Ronald Reagan got when he tried to get the state of California to label ketchup as a vegetable.

A couple of months ago I was discussing age with a close friend who’s a few years younger than me.  I highlighted my concerns about my own aging; that I have no siblings (and therefore no nieces or nephews) and no children.  Going back to what I stated above: I’m getting older alone.

“I hear you, brother,” he responded.  He’s mostly in the same position, although he has a sister.

Regardless I have to say that I’d rather get to be this age – and experience the myriad agonies that come with it – than to die as a very young man.  I lost a close friend to AIDS in 1993; he was almost 32.  During my tenure working at a retail store in the 1980s, two of my teenage colleagues were killed in auto wrecks.  I look at photos of young military men and women who died in the Afghanistan and Iraq wars and recollect what I was doing at their age.

So I’m doing okay.  Gray hair or not – I’m at a good place in life.

*Named changed

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November 5, 2023 · 12:19 AM

The Chief at 60

Yes, the Chief has officially reached the seventh decade of his life!  I guess, at this point, I’m supposed to feel “old”.  But I damn sure don’t!  Not really.  I mean I can’t eat like I did even twenty-five years ago, and my knees are definitely paying the price from decades of jogging.  And I know full well that I now have more years behind me than ahead of me.  But I’m still here!

Each decade of life is a major milestone, and I’m very fortunate to make it this far – especially considering I lost a close friend, David, this past April.  That came a year after I lost another long-time friend, Paul.  Paul was 55, and David was just days away from his 50th birthday.

Therefore, I’m so glad to make it this far.  I’m also happy to say I’m at a good place in life – feeling better than I have in years.  I just started a full-time job this past August; surprising considering I was 59 and hadn’t been employed like that in well over a decade.  My writing is also coming along nicely.  I’ll never give up on that!

And I swear – I’ll never get “OLD”!  My body will age and eventually give out, of course.  But I’ll never let my mind and spirit get old.

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September 29, 2023 · 7:28 PM

This Old Thing

The Yorx electronic clock/radio in the photo above is one my parents bought for me just before I started high school – in 1978.  It has been functioning ever since.  Except for a few instances in which I transported it from one location to another, that clock has been plugged in and operating almost continuously.  The radio doesn’t get much reception anymore, but the buzzer is still loud and perfectly operational.  To put all that into perspective, I’ve been through four desktop computers since 2000 and five cell phones since 2001.

And yes, that’s a landline phone in the background of the above photo.  My parents and I moved into this house in December of 1972, but didn’t get a phone until the following month – and only because my mother wrote a stern letter to the local telephone conglomerate.  In those days, we’d otherwise have to find a payphone.  Remember those?  This area was newly-developed (former farmland), so there weren’t many of those devices around yet.

I have a backup refrigerator from the early 1990s that still functions.  My parents remodeled the kitchen in 2006 and decided to get a new refrigerator; yet kept the old one.  That 2006 model apparently gave up on life last year, and the cost of repairing it wouldn’t be worth the expense.  But, like my Yorx clock, the older fridge has been working almost continuously for several years.  I wrote last year about the house where I’m living; the place where I grew up and how it turned 50.  My truck is 17 years old and – although showing its age – hasn’t even reached 100,000 miles.

Here are at least two other old things: London’s Big Ben clock, which has been fully operational since 1859, and a light bulb in a San Francisco firehouse, which was turned on in 1901 and has been on ever since.  How many light bulbs have you been through in your lifetime?!

And here’s yet another – me!  I’ll be 60 this November and I’m happy to say I’m evolving and learning.  I just started a full-time job with a government-contracting firm, which I can only hope will last until I can retire – or an asteroid destroys the Earth, and I won’t have to worry about credit card bills.

Okay, I’m not a “thing”.  But I am happy to say I’ve been around a while and I’m now reflecting upon my past years.  I’ve often been one of those people to hold grudges; to recount previous conversations and events and achingly wish I could have done better.  It’s been rough for me to understand I can never change the past.  Whatever happened way back when brought me to where I am now – bruised and battered and imperfect, indeed.  But I’m here – and so much better for it all.

More importantly I decided long ago I’ll never get “old” – whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean.  I’ll age, of course, but not get old.  I don’t care what people say now or in the future.  I’m glad to be here in my present state.

Now, this “old” bastard will engage in another aged activity – reading a physical book.  Some things just never get…well, old.

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September 29, 2023 · 7:48 AM

The Heart Has No Wrinkles

This is a simple, yet extraordinary post from fellow blogger Catnip of Life.  Indeed, the heart never gets wrinkled! Thank you, Sharla!

“There is a fountain of youth: it is your mind, your talents, the creativity you bring to your life and the lives of people you love. When you learn to tap this source, you will truly have defeated age.”

Sophia Loren

It is inevitable for the wrinkles of life to show their ‘ugly’ signs throughout the aging process. For some, the signs of aging appear much earlier than others. How soon they appear and the deepness of their appearance depends upon life itself…its ups & downs, as well as detours along the way. 

“Wave the magic wand!” we might say at some point. Ah-h-h-h, if only that would work but then we could find ourselves in the midst of a global storm! Yet, if we were without those wrinkles, what would that say about our lives? Would we have truly lived? Would we have smiled and laughed, as well as frowned and cried? Or, would our faces look pasty without any indications of former emotion?

Reflect back on times in your life perhaps when a wrinkle might have first appeared. What was your reaction? Did signs of any wrinkling change the love and compassion you feel in your heart?  To love and to be loved never ages regardless if wrinkles appear!

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March 4, 2022 · 10:22 PM

Parenting Tub Steps

Here’s an interesting dichotomy.  Please look closely at the photo above.  Is this what the tail end of middle age is all about?

Occasionally I receive mailings from a company that installs walk-in tubs – the kind used by, you know, old and or disabled people.  But, for the last couple of years, I’ve also been receiving periodicals from “Parents” magazine.  I suddenly feel like I’m one of the three last people on Earth – and the other two are a drug dealer and a politician.

Why?

I’m 58 now and am starting experience the early signs of an aging physique and mind: occasional loss of balance, difficulty squatting down and getting back up, saying whatever comes to mind with little regard for the consequences.  In some respects, I feel like both my body and mind have tired of me and want to lead separate lives.  For the most part I don’t blame them.

But note to self: I DON’T NEED A FUCKING WALK-IN TUB!!!

Not yet anyway.

The “Parents” magazine is more shocking.  I don’t know how I got subscribed.  It’s not like that time back in the mid-1970s when some neighbors – impressed with my curiosity and precocious nature – bought us a two-year subscription to “National Geographic”; a subscription I maintain to this day.

I literally had to do a double-take when I saw “Parents”.  It didn’t seem to be a complimentary issue; a trial run.  My name and address are on the label!

It’s a true irony, though.  I always wanted to be a dad.  To get married and settle down into a nice comfortable suburban life.  But I also wanted to be a world-famous scientist, an architect, an actor and singer.  Some things just don’t happen because there weren’t meant to happen.  Oh well…

I’m still a writer!  Something I definitely wanted to do with my life!

After peeling off the labels, the two above-mentioned items go into the recycle batch.  And I go into the kitchen to grab some wine!

Some things go just as planned.

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January 8, 2022 · 4:26 PM

Death and Time

The death of actress and national icon Betty White on New Year’s Eve 2021 has left many of us here in the United States shocked and despondent.  White was just 17 days shy of her 100th birthday; an event which she and the rest of us looked forward to celebrating.  Now she’s gone.  Suddenly.  None of us really saw this coming.  How could this happen?  Why?  But none of us should be shocked.

Death doesn’t honor our designated times of order.  My paternal grandfather once said that he respected death because it bears no prejudice.  It takes who it wants when it wants.  According to my father it was painful for him to admit even that much; as he had seen so many very young people and/or very good people suffer an untimely demise throughout his time on Earth.  My grandfather died in 1969, and my father didn’t fully comprehend the meaning of what the old man had said until some years later.

Perhaps it’s easy for we older folks to have a more cynical if not sedate view of death.  I’m at the point where I know I have more years behind than ahead of me.  But currently I feel I’m surrounded by people enduring serious health struggles.  A close friend is showing signs of Parkinson’s.  Another friend is dealing with liver cancer.  His doctors gave him less than a decade, unless he has a liver transplant.  But his liver seems too badly damaged to qualify for a transplant.  So he’s resigned himself to decluttering his life and reconnecting with people.  One of my cousins who’s 10 years older suffered a heart attack in 2020 and is now battling kidney failure.  The 40-something son of another long-time friend is still recovering from a catastrophic stroke he experienced about 2 years ago.  He’s ensconced in a rehabilitation facility, but doesn’t appear to be making much progress – not according to his father.  The latter says it seems his son doesn’t really want to cooperate with the therapists; as if – just a few years from age 50 – he’s decided he’s lived life to the fullest.

As a manic depressive in my past life, death often occupied more space in my mind than thoughts of the future.  A typical artistic type, I experience the full range of emotions humanity possesses.  But death haunts all of us throughout our lives.  When I was in high school, a girl was killed when a train struck the car in which she was riding.  Around that same time, lightning killed a boy walking home from school.  Some years later, while working at a retail store, a teenage constituent was killed by a drunk driver, and another died in a car wreck.  In the fall of 1992, I happened upon the obituary of a young man I’d known in grade school; he was 29.  The following year a friend died of AIDS at the age of 31.

Looking at the myriad news events surrounding the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, I’m always heartbroken at the sight of very young people returning home with damaged bodies and minds or in coffins.  The epidemic of school shootings and deaths of those caught up in civil unrest is truly upsetting.

How is it these things are allowed to happen?  Isn’t there supposed to be an all-loving, omnipotent deity who could prevent such horrors?

I’ve always wondered what life is like on “The Other Side”; whatever it’s supposed to be and wherever that is.  I like to think all those I’ve known in decades past, including my parents and even my dogs, are safely enveloped in such realms; where (hopefully) they are happy and loved.

Back in 2012, I had a brief dream of an English and German instructor I had at a community college in suburban Dallas in the 1980s.  She was a quirky, yet truly inspirational character.  I hadn’t thought of her in years when I had that dream.  I think it was a day or two later when I found her obituary in the newspaper.  And I thought later that, perhaps, she flitted through my sleeping subconscious to say goodbye – for now.

Betty White’s “sudden” death saddened so many people.  But she was 99!  So she didn’t quite make it to her centennial birthday!  She always vocalized how fortunate she was to have lived so long and to have so many people admire and love her.  She had reached the end of her time in this world.

We all will at some point.  As sad as it may be sometimes, it doesn’t really matter one’s age or condition at the moment of death.  It just happens.  We have to make our time as valuable and fulfilling as we can.

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