Today is the last day of my 73rd year.
Last night we went to see the recent Israeli movie, "Scaffolding," which I recommend. As senior citizens, we get a discount on movies, museum entrances, etc., but we have to show our official senior citizen cards. I gave ours to the girl at the cash register and said I wanted tickets for two "old people." She and the other girl at the neighboring cash register laughed. I meant to be funny, but what's funny is calling us "senior citizens," instead of what we really are.
So, I wonder: what am I looking forward to? The impeachment of Donald Trump and the indictment of Benjamin Netanyahu and his henchmen. How petty and vindictive am I getting to be?
It's healthier to look forward to personal things, hoping to get as much out of life as I can, and to remain engaged and productive, not to be a burden on anyone.
I admit to a failing of the aging: I scan the obituaries on the Times Internet edition and keep score: this one made it to 92, that one died at 46. I don't expect to rate an obituary in the Times when I croak, but I wonder what people will say: Well, at least Jeff made it to X. Or, too bad, Jeff only made it to X.
My father died before his 85th birthday (1906-1991), and my mother, who was a heavy smoker, only made it to 82 (1910-1992). My son Asher died at 28 (1978-2006). When he died, we knew he had been cheated of years of activity. When they died, it didn't seem untimely to me.
In a sense, the future is an illusion. It hasn't happened yet, and anything could happen. I was supposed to take part in a concert tomorrow night with a wind band that I play with, but the conductor, Eitan Avitzur, who's a bit older than I am, was hospitalized with a heart problem, so the concert has been cancelled. I have a lot of respect for Eitan, a fine musician, a professor emeritus of composition, a prolific composer and arranger, and a dedicated man. He's been conducting the orchestra as a volunteer for years, and the last thing he needs is the petty little troubles that keep cropping up and spoiling things.
I wonder whether he'll be able to continue.
As for me, I have some irons in the fire, things I want to accomplish and to continue doing. For example, I want to bring my overcoat to the cleaner's this morning.
Last night we went to see the recent Israeli movie, "Scaffolding," which I recommend. As senior citizens, we get a discount on movies, museum entrances, etc., but we have to show our official senior citizen cards. I gave ours to the girl at the cash register and said I wanted tickets for two "old people." She and the other girl at the neighboring cash register laughed. I meant to be funny, but what's funny is calling us "senior citizens," instead of what we really are.
So, I wonder: what am I looking forward to? The impeachment of Donald Trump and the indictment of Benjamin Netanyahu and his henchmen. How petty and vindictive am I getting to be?
It's healthier to look forward to personal things, hoping to get as much out of life as I can, and to remain engaged and productive, not to be a burden on anyone.
I admit to a failing of the aging: I scan the obituaries on the Times Internet edition and keep score: this one made it to 92, that one died at 46. I don't expect to rate an obituary in the Times when I croak, but I wonder what people will say: Well, at least Jeff made it to X. Or, too bad, Jeff only made it to X.
My father died before his 85th birthday (1906-1991), and my mother, who was a heavy smoker, only made it to 82 (1910-1992). My son Asher died at 28 (1978-2006). When he died, we knew he had been cheated of years of activity. When they died, it didn't seem untimely to me.
In a sense, the future is an illusion. It hasn't happened yet, and anything could happen. I was supposed to take part in a concert tomorrow night with a wind band that I play with, but the conductor, Eitan Avitzur, who's a bit older than I am, was hospitalized with a heart problem, so the concert has been cancelled. I have a lot of respect for Eitan, a fine musician, a professor emeritus of composition, a prolific composer and arranger, and a dedicated man. He's been conducting the orchestra as a volunteer for years, and the last thing he needs is the petty little troubles that keep cropping up and spoiling things.
I wonder whether he'll be able to continue.
As for me, I have some irons in the fire, things I want to accomplish and to continue doing. For example, I want to bring my overcoat to the cleaner's this morning.
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