COMPLAINTS AND OBSERVATIONS
The Complaints
I am somewhat more “developed in years” than many, if not
most, of you, so some will understand what I am saying and some will
continue to await enlightenment. I am not one of those
people who
enjoy complaining about aging, but there are some things
that really get up your nose. One thing that does piss me off is getting more
and more “old joke”; e-mails from friends and associates
pointing out
what happens to us in our senescence. As a example, I
recently got the following from my friend Sam Sanderson in Tucson.
A crusty old biker out on a long
summer ride in the country pulls up to a
tavern in the middle of nowhere,
parks his bike and walks inside.
As he passes through the swinging
doors, he sees a sign hanging over the
bar:
COLD BEER: $2.00 HAMBURGER: $2.25
CHEESEBURGER: $2.50 CHICKEN SANDWICH:
$3.50
HAND JOB: $50.00
Checking his wallet to be sure he has
the necessary payment, the ole'
biker walks up to the bar and beckons
to the exceptionally attractive
female bartender who is serving
drinks to a couple of sun-wrinkled farmers.
She glides down behind the bar to the
ole biker. "Yes?" she inquires with a
wide, knowing smile, "may I help
you?"
The ole biker leans over the bar,
"I was wondering young lady," he
whispers, "are you the one who
gives the hand-jobs?"
She looks into his eyes with that
wide smile and purrs "Why yes, yes, I sure
am".
The ole' biker leans closer and into
her left ear whispers softly, "Well, wash
your hands real good, cause I want a
cheeseburger".
It is not so much getting the notes that aggravates me, it
is the fact
that not only do I consider myself old, everyone I know
seems to think
so as well. Being on the receiving end is upsetting but
the actual
pisser is the realization, on reflection, of how true they
are in
describing exactly what I would actually do. Sam’s had me
nailed.
The idea that I spent most of my money on wine, women and
song
and wasted the rest; was funnier at 40 than it is at 60.
Growing old was not a gradual process for me. I spent most
of my life thinking about what to do next; the companies I wanted to work with,
the things I had not yet done, the places I had not yet seen and the people I
had not yet met. Suddenly the realization came to me that whatever it was that
I was yet to do; it was probably less exciting, less important and less
remunerative than what I had already done. It was almost like I went to bed one
night; young, and woke up the next day; old. I thought I would have some time
to get used to the idea but it arrived fully formed.
I really try to follow the adage of Mark Twain when it
comes to growing old; “It is mostly a question of mind over matter, if you
don’t mind, it doesn’t matter”. But it gets harder every year that goes by.
Bette Davis was supposed to have had an embroidered pillow
that said; “old age ain’t for sissies”. She was right. It takes a certain type of
courage to see the deflation of your life’s possibilities and still maintain a
positive outlook about things. And
do not get me started on the medical stuff. These rants are long enough without
you having to wade through pages of my symptoms and diagnoses.
However, getting old is not without some compensation. I
am reminded of my friend Russell in Kansas City. I met Russell in an AA group
when I was in the first five years of my sobriety and when I was still filled
with resentment and anger. As most of you know I am not often reluctant to
express an opinion, so the members of the AA group had a pretty good idea of
how tightly I was wound. One of the recommendations of AA is that new members
should find a “sponsor”.
The sponsor is another AA member who hopefully has greater
temporal and spiritual sobriety than you and who agrees to work with and help
you in your efforts to stay sober and grow spiritually. Up until I met Russell,
I had steadfastly avoided asking anyone to be my sponsor and so, while I had
avoided taking a drink, I had not experienced much in the way of spiritual growth.
In the AA literature it says, “if you want what we have,
and are willing to go to any lengths, then you are willing to take certain
steps”. To my eyes, Russell had an emotional equanimity and a sense of peace and
serenity about him that I recognized I did not. He had what I wanted. Russell
was a self-described “mid-stage octogenarian striving to become an early-stage
nonagenarian”. Having lived to be 86 and having stayed sober for nearly 50
years, he figured just about the last thing he needed was a loud and angry kid
to sponsor. So I had to mount quite a campaign to get him to agree to be my
sponsor, but I was ultimately successful. We became quite close and spent a lot
of time together both in and outside meetings. I came to love the old man and
over the course of a couple of years he helped me find some emotional sobriety
to go along with the physical kind.
I asked him one time how he achieved the serenity that seemed to radiate
from him. He said it was simple. If you live long enough most of the things
that cause you aggravation and distress are just not important anymore. He was
and is right. He had so much more to teach about how to live successfully and
at peace with oneself, which he shared unselfishly with me. Some I was able to
learn and some not; but I am a better person for having known him.
I guess one of the gifts of aging is that the very things
that used to drive us mad and cause us the most distress do fade away. Mark
Twain was right, “if you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter”.
All of us should at some point be able to realize that our struggles are mostly
at an end and be able to take comfort in the fact that we have passed along the
torch to future generations. This was certainly true for Russell and when he
passed away he could look back knowing that not only his own family was doing
well but also that he had helped unknown numbers of others to live better,
happier and more productive lives. But I think our troubled times are stealing
even this last compensation from those of us who are now entering our “golden
years”. Right now is a particularly difficult time to keep a positive attitude.
The global economy, climate change, unemployment, health care, Islamic extremism,
terrorism, nuclear proliferation and the failure of the nation-state each have
the potential of making it so that ours may be the first generation in history
to leave their descendants facing a future with worse prospects than we faced
when we were born. The torch may have been passed but the race still has many
hurdles yet to run. Serenity is hard to find right now. Thank God we in America
have someone at the helm that is at least attempting to do something about
those hurdles. Obama has his hands full; and it looks like the Republicans have
not been able to develop any kind of a programme other than to act as unified
kneejerk opponents to whatever initiatives the President proposes. Having an
opposition Party with no ideas of their own simply does not work. At times you actually have to be for something.
It is actually worse than that. I had dinner with a
neighbor recently and they recounted overhearing one of their professional
associates remarking, after the most recent Presidential election results were final,
“they flew the communist flag over the White House”. What the communist flag
is, who ‘they’ were and how they got through George W. Bush’s Secret Service
entourage to raise it were left unclear.
According to the neighbor, no one cried, BULLSHIT! I
suppose it is easier to just let these inane comments pass when we hear them
but if we are ever going to have a serious debate about the real challenges facing
this country and the world we have to put an end to this silliness and begin
talking about what is real and what actually needs to be done. As Donn Wonnell said, “cynicism is not
the basis for a policy”.
At the end of the nineteenth century and the beginning of
the twentieth there was a realization in the United States that unfettered capitalism
had resulted in a situation that was not in the interests of society or the
Country at large. The result was the passage of antitrust legislation and the
establishment of other regulatory structures. Now, at the beginning of the
twenty-first century we are seeing again how lack of oversight and regulation
of business behavior can lead us into difficulty. This is the time for a new
debate about how we should limit future business activities to avoid the
continuation or a future repeat of our current economic problems.
This for me is a central question. How do we as a society
agree to limit the freedom of action of individuals in the public interest?
This ability to have a process that allows the majority to limit the freedom of
action of the minority in a way that is agreeable and accepted by those whose
freedoms are limited goes to the heart of what it means to be a functioning
democracy. It is the practical effect of the rule of law. The fact that it does
work in this country was most clearly demonstrated in the 2000 Presidential
election, in which Bush clearly lost the majority vote but once the courts had
ruled in favor of his victory by the Electorial College, he was sworn in with
almost no dissent.
So far we seem to be able to function pretty well as a
democracy but I do not see much in the way of meaningful debate. If my
experience with the population at large is any guide; most of them are not drunks.
So we better hope that they are fools, because we certainly need God to take
care of us. In this regard, my recent discussions with some US Republicans lead
me to conclude that there is cause for optimism.
The Observations
There are times when I take on pretentions at being able
to write and
I think I will be able to spend my declining years
cranking out pulp fiction. Some of you have encouraged this fantasy. I am
brought back to reality whenever I come in contact with those among us who actually
can write.
I ran across the following recently in a book by George
MacDonald Fraser author of the Flashman series of books. Sir Harry Flashman VC
OBE is a charming reprobate and lothario who through
happenstance, luck and shameless self-promotion is acclaimed a military hero in
his early life. His undeserved reputation causes him to be cast into leading
roles in most of the Victorian Age’s colonial hot spots. Of course he comes
though with shining colors in spite of his best efforts to avoid danger and
line his own pockets. The series is great fun and I would certainly not call it
great literature but a wonderful read never the less and I highly recommend it.
In one of the books where Flashman is in the American West of the 1800’s Fraser
writes;
“”Even if my learning of Apache never
progressed far beyond “Nuetsche-shee,eet-zan”, which loosely translated as
“Come here, girl”, and is all you need to know (apart from a few fawning
protestations of friendship and whines for mercy, and much good they’ll do
you), I still recognize the diabolical lingo when I hear it. That guttural,
hissing mumble, with all it “Tz” and “zl” and “rr” noises, like a drunk Scotch-Jew
having trouble with his false teeth, is something you don’t forget in a hurry.””
Where does inspiration for, “a drunk Scotch-Jew having
trouble with his false teeth”, come from? What a wonderful image and one I
simply could never create. I marvel at the creativity of artists generally but am
humbled when it so clearly demonstrates my limitations.
Mostly I read popular fiction. Spy tales and mysteries are
my stock and trade. Occasionally my friend John Cahill sends me real books but mostly
I am a top 10 New York Times guy. I just never could get into non-fiction. I
seem to get enough exposure to the world to sufficiently worry about things
without actually having access to real facts.
The author that I think of most often in terms of great
literature is
Victor Hugo. I still remember the first time I read Les
Miserables. I could almost taste the language. It is remarkable that this
comes through in translation and I do not know who the translator was for the
version I read but he did an unbelievable job. Those of you who have read the
book in the original; please let me know if the richness of expression is in
the French as well or if the translator was just that talented. I have always
wondered how much the beauty of the
expression was due to his skill.
Even though I will never be a creative writer, those of
you who are on the distribution list are suck with having to read these rants.
Although I guess you all do have access to the delete button. I normally try to tie in a video to
these but did not do that this time.
However, since I did touch on how difficult the US economy is the
following link might be appropriate.
For those of you who are not from the US, there are
generally locations in most US cities where laborers who are looking for a day job,
typically manual labor or construction, congregate in the mornings and
employers can drive by and pick up a daily worker or two. Many of these
locations, particularly in the Southern states, are heavily poplated by Mexican
or Latin American immigrants.
I hope you are all well. If you have strong feeling about
any of this, please let me know. As I spend more and more time at home, you are
more important as my touchstones to reality.
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