My Eighth Decade Begins Today: Could It Possibly Be Better Than The First Seven?
Can you imagine us years from today
Sharing a park bench quietly?
How terribly strange to be seventy.
-- From "Old Friends"
By Paul Simon
Paul was 24 years old when he wrote this song in 1968. I was 13, and just becoming aware of the upheaval going on around me. For both of us at that time, the very notion of ever being 70 would have indeed been terribly strange.
Today, something terribly strange happened: I turned 70.
In our culture, milestone birthdays such as those ending in a zero inevitably force us to look back, asking questions humans have been asking themselves since man has existed: Where did I come from, and why? What kind of life have I had? Who has helped me through it, and who do I need to thank? Did I do anything worthwhile? Has my life had a positive impact on those I've encountered? How much time do I have left? Will those final years be "golden," as many say (or hope) they will be? These are extremely personal questions that can only adequately be answered by the person who has lived the life. A person's "legacy" and how it is measured is a very subjective thing. So much depends on your "luck of the draw" when you are born; what the mind, personality and talents you were provided at birth allow you to do; and whether you stay healthy enough through a combination of good genes and caring for your own body to live a long, productive life.
When I tally up all the positives that have allowed me to live 70 years, any setbacks pale in comparison. I was born to parents who loved me and provided for me; our family never had to worry about where our next meal was coming from; I was somehow able to attend one of the best journalism schools in the U.S. at the University of Wisconsin, even though my high school grades were nothing to brag about; I married and had three beautiful children with my best friend; and I was able to complete a 45-year career in journalism and government public relations doing the thing I was best at, and was most passionate about: writing. Are there times that I wished I could have had a brain that led me to law, or accounting, or business, or something that could have made me a lot more money? Sure ... most of us do. But as I have always told all three of my children: Pursue your passion. Money is great ... but not when you sacrifice your happiness and sense of purpose because of it.
I have seen the promise of the coming retirement years in the Three Jolly Coachmen's Coffee House concert series, now in its third year and going gangbusters: I am performing music I love with longtime friends for audiences who love what we do; and I've been able to donate more than $18,000 to local charities from ticket sales and our audiences' additional generosity; and I've been able to continue to fulfill dreams like traveling to California this past September with my group to perform. It just doesn't get any better than that.
Or does it?
Many popular songs over the years have talked about aging. One of my favorites, "It Was A Very Good Year," I sing with the Three Jolly Coachmen. On my 70th birthday, the last verse resonates:
And now the days are short.
I'm in the autumn of the year.
And now I think of my life as vintage wine from fine old kegs
From the brim to the dregs
It poured sweet and clear. It was a very good year.
And I pray for many more good years to come.
So much fun sharing the Three Jolly Coachmen experience with you and our peeps for these past 18-ish years! Onward and upward ~