Amsterdan

I just woke up 60

Big Sur, California
Not 60 times or 60 degrees or 60 minutes…
60 years.
Not a long time if you’ve done it.
I know lots of people in their 60’s
We all grew up in the ‘60’s.
Many of us still haven’t grown up
Which is maybe why it’s disorienting, just a bit.

I had two years to prepare for this moment.
When I was 58 I miscounted, so I’ve been “almost 60” for a long time.
Now even that is behind me.
What is ahead of me?

Death, certainly. The obvious.
Probably not for 25 years, both my parents are in their ‘80’s.
I wouldn’t mind being an octogenarian like Mom,
Still sharp, working, in good enough health not to complain.
Don’t want to get old like my dad, slow and frustrated.
His genes have the edge in my body – based on physical appearance – but
I have the edge in being able to see into the future by looking at my dad.
He didn’t have that edge, his dad died at 59, and his older brother, too, at 59.
That was the family curse my dad broke just after his
Quadruple bypass operation
At 59. If truth be told, I’m a little relieved to edge past 59.

Except that means I’m 60.
The people I love, most of them, tell me I don’t look 60.
I sure as hell don’t feel 60 – whatever that means.
Plenty of great things have been done by people older than 60.
And I’m not poor or sick or homeless.
I think I could probably talk my way out of being poor or homeless.
I have learned something.

But, sick, I couldn’t talk my way out of. And that’s a problem.
I have this really healthy body that required no maintenance whatsoever
Till I was in my ’30’s. Then only a little exercise like walking.
Then by my late ‘40’s stuff started to go, first my stomach,
But there’s a pill for that,
Then my esophagus and a hernia, but there are simple surgeries for that.
My asthma has gotten worse, and there’s a steroid for that
(which recently added a warning that using this steroid can kill you, but don’t discontinue it).
God must have written that warning on one of his more ironic days.

The old BP and cholesterol are borderline, and
When they redrew the border, they
Gave me some more daily pills for that.
Evidently my prostate has as big an appetite as I do, and the pill for that
Stuffs up my sinuses, so staying on saw palmetto, a simple
Herb, fixes that for now.
Who knows what the next thing will be, but I rely on medical science’s weekly miracles.

Obesity, that’s the next thing that pills can’t cure.
Oh, the irony: an overworked epicure who can afford his tastes but
Dares no longer indulge them.
I hate exercise, don’t know why, but always did.
Wasn’t a problem in my 20’s.
Was kind of enjoyable in my 40’s.
Now it may be THE issue, so okay I’ve gotta do it.
I picture myself 61 and 30 pounds lighter and in pretty good shape.
There. Satisfied?

Oh, that’s the other big problem at 60 … too much to say.
Have you noticed how the lines have gotten longer the more I write?
I work on brevity, and it’s strictly enforced by my partner.
I’ll work harder.
On brevity.
I picture myself 61 and speaking
In sentence fragments
To applauding audiences of
Twenty-somethings.
So I’ve got that going for me: a rich fantasy life.

What lies ahead?
That’s what today is for, and tomorrow:
To figure that out. And, gimme a break,
I just woke up. 60.

posted by DanZ @ 1:21 PM