Man, when I was a young’un I would look at somebody my age now with something approaching distain. I thought when all these damn old people die, racism, sexism and all kinds of -isms would die with them. Turns out I have been stupid my entire life.
Now that I’m as old as dirt, I don’t feel like I’m the same as the people I remember. That may well be. I am from a different generation and have different attitudes. I didn’t wear a coat and tie to work every day, and I never got into Sinatra. My sole memory of the Beatles was ABC World News Tonight reporting that they broke up. I don’t think Frank Sinatra ever broke up, that would be funny as hell.
Truth is, I didn’t think I was old until about five years ago. I know I’m old now. Sometimes I even feel pain in my joints so I take something called MSM (Methylslfonyléthne) Not only can I not spell it, I’m sure I can’t pronounce it.
But you know what? I don’t feel old, I don’t feel like “these kids today blah, blah, blah.” Hey! I can’t understand the words to that song… and why do you play it so loud? I keep thinking old is a state on mind. Did you ever meet somebody in their forties who was all grumpy and crotchety? I always thought those were just old people practicing. Now that I think about it, maybe that says more about me than it does about them. Maybe I associate being old with having a poor attitude. I wonder if that’s an echo from my teenage years: if you’re crotchety, you’re old.
Then the question becomes: If you’re “of a certain age” but your glass is half full, are you old? Is old a state of mind or an age? Hey, get the hell off my lawn! Damn kids.
How old is old?
Before writing this blog, I decided to do some research. I found a Russian analytical article by Tinkoff, an online journal. The research was based on Western sources.
Here’s what I’ve found about why we feel older or younger regardless of actual age:
#1: Vividness of memories. Children and teenagers feel older than their age. But by age twenty-five, inner age begins to lag behind chronological age.
# 2: The state of physical and mental health. The research confirms that health problems cause a sense of “ageing” while being able to lead an active lifestyle helps you perceive yourself as younger and stay alert.
#3: Important life events. People over 60 estimate subjective age closer to chronological age shortly before their birthday, but the further away from the holiday – the younger they feel.
I recall Jim Lanier, who I first met in 2011, filming a documentary in Alaska. Then, I stayed in his house in 2017 for 3 months. Back in 2017, he was 77. He is fine now. So, Jim used to say: I am 77 years young. He wasn’t feeling old, enjoying a very active lifestyle, including being a musher at his age, not just racing dogs, but also riding his snowmachine and a four-wheeler, routine Alaskan vehicles. He looked much younger than his age, ten years younger. His mental age was even younger.
So, this is what I think of being old and feeling old.
I try to live this way, too, because I 100% know I don’t feel like I am 50, which I am. I plan to successfully run a marathon in Saint Pete on July 5; my 16-week training starts on March 4. I still enjoy karate every Thursday, with sparring – kumite – being my focus of interest. I can’t believe I am 50 and feel ten years younger. Mentally.
I hope not to feel old even when I – hopefully – will make it to being old chronologically.
How old is old?
When I was a youngster growing up in the 1950s and 1960s, I thought everyone over the age of 50, including my parents, were facing imminent death, because, let’s face it, over 50 is so very old…….
Until you reach 50, of course, when suddenly, it seems such a young age. And now I am 72, do I feel old? Maybe, sometimes, especially when I look into the mirror. Come on! I am almost at the life expectancy age of a European white male, so surely I must be ancient and soon for the scrapheap…..
More and more we are being told that you are only as old as you feel. Great! I get up, go for a run or partake in other forms of exercise, and feel like I’m in my thirties. Then I look in the mirror. Bad mistake. I look old man, so very, very old. Grey hair and wrinkles. Sod mirrors. One of the world’s worst-ever inventions.
In the end, I reckon it’s memory loss that finally means “old”.This is where the cognitive factor rears its ugly head. I have virtually no friends of a similar age who don’t worry about their memory fading. I don’t worry about my heart, (or my liver, maybe I should), but I do worry about my head – or, rather, what’s happening, or not happening, inside it.
I have long since reached the age where I rush upstairs, only to stop at the top and ask myself what the hell am I up here for? I think when the brain does not allow you the freedom of expression, the wonderment of being who you are, where you are, and traps you inside so that you cannot remember who your family and friends are, then you are old.
But until then, and of course, it will happen, it’s party time!! Oldness go fuck yourself. I’ll catch up with you later……….., much later.