Seventy Is Not The New Fifty!

Oh yeah life goes on, long after the thrill of living is gone…

– John Mellancamp

Can I handle the seasons of my life….

– Stevie Nicks

Not that you were required to do the math but it’s been ten years since I started this little rant and I regret to inform you that I recently turned 70. I am not a stickler for details but it appears that I have aged myself out of my own blog! What I plan on doing is starting something new, titled perhaps Running Out Of Runway or a take on what I heard in Heathrow a few weeks ago coming off a moving sidewalk, “You are approaching the end of the conveyor.” I’m leaning toward, Jane Get Me Off This Crazy Thing. If that reference escapes you…you know the drill. One thing is for certain, Seventy Is In No Way The New Fifty!

That will be in the new year. I have been in my 60s for a chunk of 2024 and will ride this out for the rest of the 1970 Playboy Playmate calendar hanging over my desk. But back to the matter at hand to quote Calvin Broadus. The Big Seven-Oh. I spent the last couple of months letting that sink in, kind of like that climactic moment at the proctologist. I was not encouraged, partially because upon my return from Florida – it’s cliche and trashy but the weather works – I suffered through a battery of medical and dental situations. I had some pressure on my eyes that required a lifetime prescription of drops according to the ophthalmologist in Miami only to see that rescinded by my erstwhile brother-in-law. I suffered through close to five figures in dental work that saw me literally spitting Chiclets. On top of that there were so many MRIs, CT Scans and Sonograms, I asked one of the technicians if we could just go with a pat down.

Of course none of the results are conclusive save for the kidney stones and the advice not to get too inverted. Not going to go much further other than to say I didn’t have these problems ten years ago when I could be seen skipping gleefully down the boulevard humming a happy tune. Not going to mention that “Filling The Pill Caddy” is a weekly gig that I fuck up. Weekly. Further, we are at an age where we are given to comparing workups and everybody seems to have a nastier ‘hole card’ than me, like a childhood friend of mine who had a unique matrimonial relationship where was allowed to go to Thailand every winter. By himself. He called me late in March and when I asked about his sojourn he replied, “I didn’t go. I just went through the worst eight months of my life.” I questioned the hyperbole and he responded, “I lost a leg.”

I was speechless. The amputation below the knee was diabetes related and he showed up at breakfast a couple of weeks later with a prosthetic. This guy was a pretty good hockey player way back when and he said, “When this happens you have to make a choice – to live or…”

And that sums it up. What was that line from The Shawshank Redemption, “Get busy living or get busy dying…”? At this moment I have a business that gives me purpose every frickin’ morning, I have a severely autistic brother whom I love very much and take time each week to get him out for golf or bowling. Then there’s my fabulous crepey-skinned romantic life. However big changes are coming, changes I will discuss at the appropriate time. No, I am not transitioning.

But the biggest change has to come from inside. Outside of needing to invest in a very personal piece of real estate and tidying up my will so my kids can split up my priceless collection of hockey cards, I have to completely reprogram my life if I am going to have at least one more terrific decade on this planet. The average life expectancy for men in North America is like 76 so hitting eighty would be a win. For some reason my Quora feed is full of seniors who are questioning the meaning of their own existence. Some are painfully lonely, others never bothered to get married or have children. Some are broke. There seems to be a lack of purpose. 

So I have some ideas I would like to share with you with the overall concept that we spend the first twenty years of our lives preparing for adult life and we should spend the last twenty or so – should we be so lucky – preparing for eternity. As for your workouts and biohacking, I will leave that up to you. Nor do you want advice from a guy on a steady diet of bourbon and cigars. It sounds grim but hear me out.

1. Get up every morning and give thanks for the blessing of actually waking up. Seriously, in my religion there is a prayer for that. There is also a line about thanking G-d he didn’t make me a woman which further discourages transitioning. Be conscious enough to make that part of your morning routine. Be thankful that you can afford an overpriced latte made with tap water.

2. Stop looking for more entertainment. We are the most entertained generation in history. Don’t waste hundreds to see the zombie remains of a 70s supergroup. The bitter will outlast the sweet. Bobby Lefsetz recently wrote about going to see The Atlanta Rhythm Section fifty years after I’m So Into You and realized he wasn’t so into it. One rock yahrzeit too many.

3. Stop watching TV. It is not entertainment. It is state-supported propaganda. I make do with Googling old Carson clips or my pal Howie Barish’s new Midnight Special Youtube channel. Its free. Trust me, nobody is going to go to their deathbed wishing they had watched more Bridgerton. Better you should buy a 4k Blu-ray player and watch classic movies. Make an effort. Seek to understand how your favorite old movies got made and revel in those stories. It’s so much more rewarding than merely staring blankly at the screen wondering why you are staring blankly at the screen. 

4. Stop looking for fun. That’s for ten year-olds. Strive for joy. Do the things that uplift your soul and create a real footprint in the tragicomic novel that is your life. You will remember joy. Give of yourself. I volunteered to help out with the charity golf tournament that raises money for the organization that looks after my brother. I contributed something as a rookie but I was blown away by the dedication of the people involved. I felt some joy just being associated with the event. I’ll do more next year. 

5. On that note, cut the non-stop stream of over overpriced restaurants, fleeting experiences that evaporate by the time you get home. The departing New York Times restaurant critic wrote in his farewell column that the restaurant experience has been dehumanized by reservation apps and overly automated service. I can’t stand the five texts and three calls I get making sure I’m showing up for the pleasure of blowing a deuce on a Campari, a couple of salads, a pizza and a pasta. Again, nobody has dined out more than the Boomer generation. In response, I’m learning how to cook, believe it or not, and I can make a mean Caesar salad dressing, a few different fish dishes and edible short ribs. Kind of feels good this working with your hands.

6. I listened to a lecture by a rabbi who had done some work with the dying. Of their top five regrets one was not staying in touch with old friends. Personally, if I think of someone in passing I call them. Full stop. At the very least I send an email or text. Show people you care. Again, I have to make an effort to withhold when it comes to former girlfriends. You might not have that problem. As per the above, meet your old friends for a coffee. Trade stories. See what you can do if they are in bad shape. If they work for a charity, throw it a few bucks in appreciation of the relationship. See how that feels.

7. Seek some eternal wisdom, preferably more than the usual memes that come across the social platforms. Podcasts are for people who are still on career flight paths. We are not. At the very best we are hoping the tower gives us a landing pattern. And the wisdom should be ancient preferably, that means older than Dr. Phil. Going to get a little ecumenical for a moment and discuss what are known as the ‘Five Levels Of Pleasure’, the lowest being physical, the second being love and the third is creation. Well, if you haven’t had your share of the first level by now, whether through sex, drugs or rock and roll, then you have missed the boat. If you are fortunate enough to be married and in a growing, affectionate relationship then you are still getting love, doubly so if you have grandkids. As for me, I’m looking at a mostly solo flight from here on in. You’ve read my earlier treatise on dating sites and that was a couple of good years ago. As for creation, I built a business, I’ve had my children. Maybe I have a couple of screenplays left in me but creation, in this usage, really applies to the fomenting of life. Right after that is wisdom, the acquisition of which will stead you through your descent in a relatively sedentary lifestyle. The final pleasure is knowing G-d. Not for everyone but at the very least take note there’s no more planetariums around. Our natural posture is downward because the smartphone has replaced the universe in all its wonder. And what’s south? Hell literal or just figurative.

8. Speaking of the phone, try a day without it. Seriously, you are probably retired or semi-so therefore not fielding calls like batting practice. Some of my days are still like the first twenty minutes of Saving Private Ryan but I will take the odd morning and just leave the phone at home, if just for a few hours. You will be amazed at the freedom and the heightened awareness of your surroundings.

9. Get a bucket list together of classic novels that you want to read before you can’t. You can find lists online. I want to finish the Roth, Updike and Mailer catalogues because the American male writer has disappeared. Again beats bingeing fucking Bridgerton. 

10. Spend way more time in nature. Why? First, you’ll be returning to it sooner than later. We are fortunate to have a house in the country by a magnificent lake and I recently enjoyed almost a week there by my lonesome. I paddled, I cooked, I swam, I chilled but I noticed my surroundings in much greater detail. I made a promise to myself to spend some time getting to know what wildlife up in the woods. I wasn’t lonely. I was present. In that alone I managed to take my blood pressure down from the usual ‘E5’ on the portable cuff which means, get your ass to emergency. Instead of a shmancy hotel, find a lodge somewhere and turn everything off but your senses. You will experience some actual wonder.

11. Seniors do a lot of traveling. It’s good for the soul but travel with a sense of purpose and eschew too much comfort. Be light on your feet but demanding when it comes to what you are going to experience. Come back from any trip better informed than when you left. 

12. Forgive yourself. The late great Kitty Carlisle Hart, a staple on To Tell The Truth, was interviewed in her last years and said she did that every morning. We have made errors and the awareness of them has made us better people. Accept your mistakes and help others avoid the same. If you can’t forgive yourself, at least forgive me. And for heaven’s sake, do celebrate your wins!

That’s as far as I am going to take this save for letting go of the stigma of unstylish but comfortable footwear. Lots to unpack to belabor the metaphor and I will expand on these issues in the new blog. As is the case with most of my writing the vitriol is self-directed and cathartic. I am so grateful for those who take the time to read these itinerant missives. Really. And I will continue to hope that, one day, I will be as cool as Jeff Goldblum who seems to have mastered the art of aging. 

But time is short, isn’t it and perhaps I can wrap this up with a line from perhaps the last Broadway show I ever truly enjoyed, a solo turn over ten years ago by my sister’s old friend Bette Midler as the late great Hollywood super agent Sue Mengers in I’ll Eat You Last. Mengers was born in Germany and came to the U.S. just before the war, tossed into a school barely knowing any English. Early in the one-act evening she talks about the popular girl in the schoolyard and how she was scared to go up to her and perhaps make a needed friend. At the end of the show Midler as Mengers says, to the best of my memory, “You better not wait to go up to that kid in the schoolyard because those end credits come up pretty fast.”