Birthday thrill-seeker?
The other night Sharon and I were watching one of our favorite police procedurals on CBS when one of the main characters uttered a line so ridiculous — I knew I had to steal it.
This character is the nerdiest of the nerds. He was trying to sweet-talk a young lady into letting him into a business that may or may not have housed clues to a kidnapping. And this character tells the lady: “My face may scream ‘thrill-seeker,’ but…”
Well, this morning I looked into the mirror, and the soon-to-be-one-year-older face that looked back at me did not, by any means, scream “thrill-seeker.” What it muttered was: “How in heck did I get this old, this fast?” Well, it — and I — did — and here we are — on the verge of diving deeper into my 70’s. Well, not “diving.” Oozing, perhaps.
Don’t let anyone tell you that 70 is the new 50 or 60. That’s baloney, and the folks who claim that probably aren’t even out of their 30’s. From my experience, if you’re in your 70’s — it’s your 70’s. Yes, you may still be active mentally — as I hope I am — but physically, no matter how much you’ve tried to take care of your body — it’s still telling you, “Buddy, act your age.”
My body really didn’t start telling me to act my age until after I retired 10 years ago. Up to that point, I’d been in pretty good shape. Never spent a night in a hospital. Heck, I hardly ever caught a cold.
But then — whammo. Since I quit going to work every day, I’ve had several serious illnesses — some involving surgery and radiation — one involving my heart (and my new companion, a trusty pace-maker, is working quite well, thank you) — and even one involving a hernia (and, no, I don’t lift anything heavy anymore. At least I try not to).
The only things that regularly show up on my calendar these days are doctors’ appointments. Actually, the reason we moved back from our “first” retirement home on California’s Central Coast is that we couldn’t find anyone there to replace the medical specialists we had started using before we left Fresno. And we kept needing them. At least I did.
So instead of continuing to drive from Paso Robles to North Fresno for appointments and treatments — a 250-mile round trip — we simply decided to move back — in this case, to our “new” retirement place at Tesoro Viejo just north of Fresno. We love our home and where we live — and the added benefit of living here is that those medicos are only a few minutes away.
As both of us get older, we’ve had to change some of the things we do to accommodate our new reality. No more overseas travel or cross-country driving trips — way too tiring. I’ve even given up golf — something I played for more than half a century.
But we still stay busy. Sharon’s writing mystery books and researching her ancestors on a variety of sites. I’m still walking several miles a day and continue doing news and a political broadcast on radio in Ames, Iowa. I also docent and do research projects for the Madera History Museum.
We go out to eat a couple of times each week — and we take shorter trips, to the coast and to the mountains (although we won’t trek back into the Sierra for at least a month or two, given that it has the biggest snowpack since 1983 — and many mountain residents just an hour or so from us are still trapped inside their homes by our latest massive snowfall. Mother Nature can pack quite a punch, huh?)
And we also watch numerous detective shows and police procedurals — many of which we stream. I guess we’re fascinated because we were in and around journalism all those decades. I’ve covered plenty of trials — and apparently can’t get over it.
But we DVR most of what we watch — except for the news — so we can avoid the commercials and get through the shows quicker. That has the added advantage of letting us get to bed earlier. Yes, we’re doing that, just like all the other stereotypical “old people.” So as you might imagine, I was interested in a recent Washington Post piece about the last thing Americans do before bed.
They do what we do — watch TV. The Post says that’s been true since at least the 1970’s — when television had, by then, taken over almost every aspect of American life. Watching TV just before bed is even more common than personal grooming and washing.
What else do we Americans do just before we go to sleep? Well, after personal grooming and washing come reading and using our computers.
Back to TV. The Post reports that TV viewing before bed peaks between the ages of 60 and 74. Bingo! Sharon and I fit oh-so-nicely. And, no, the Post did not report on the activity that you likely wanted to know about. Sorry.
But I still wonder if the two of us are doing all we can to “enjoy life” at our age. Well, the Post had another story that focuses on how to feel happier every day. That’s right — not just one day, but every single one!
Among the things Sharon and I could be doing — says the Post — walking the dog. Too bad we don’t have one.
The Post also suggests going out and having meals with friends. Hooray! Just the other day, we had a delightful brunch with friends Bud and Peggy Elliott over at Fig Garden Village. We had a fine conversation about — well, getting old. (For the record, Mr. Elliott is the “Elliott” part of this blogsite’s name.)
The Post says another way to enjoy life is to call your mom. Well, it’s too late for that. Yet another thing to do is just “hang out.” I wonder if watching TV together qualifies.
But wait! The Post also reports that small “moments” matter for our quality of life. To quote: “By mindfully tuning in to the pleasant experiences of everyday life, we can transform an otherwise mundane moment into something more joyful.”
Among the suggestions on how to transform those “mundane moments” — focus on the sensations and emotions we feel when we’re in those moments. And realize that nature is “one powerful source of joy snacks that many people can nosh on.” Yes, that’s what the Post actually said.
Well, I like nature as a snack, all right — whether I’m noshing on it or not. But I also enjoy noshing on power bar-snacks, popcorn or crackers while I’m watching one of those tense, “will they survive?” detective mysteries. Doing that also seems to have the power to transform otherwise mundane moments — at least for me.
Okay, I’m nearly out of gas for this particular exercise in writing. Yes, another birthday is just a few days away. Sharon and I likely will celebrate by eating lunch at one of our favorite restaurants that’s right across the street from Fresno High, where I graduated 55 — 55! — years ago. Then we’ll get dessert right next door, at one of the best ice-cream shops anywhere.
Maybe that doesn’t qualify as “thrill-seeking” to you — but at our ages, we’ll gladly take it.