By Fourscore (plus one now)
All of us are getting old(er) but when does it happen? How does it happen? Do we know we are getting old?
Most of us have had grandparents or parents that we saw growing older and older. We really never thought much about it on a personal level since it wasn’t happening to us. As kids we believed our parents were super people that could do anything, solve any adversity that was thrown at them and always be there for us. We knew Grandpa walked a little slower but still could play golf and catch fish and always seemed to have ice cream money for us.
We grew up, went off to conquer the world (’til we got married) and then had kids of our own. Suddenly our own parents were grandparents! What the hell is up with that? They must be getting old!
If they are getting old what does that say about us? When do we or did we get old? Well, I’m gonna relate those things that I experienced, indicators that tell me I’m old on a daily basis.
The physical changes are subtle but are happening to all of us as I speak. Yeah, you and me. When I was 40 I was playing driveway basketball with my kids, I was still taller and could out rebound them.
When their friends came over I got to play if the sides were uneven and would sometimes get chosen first (unlike high school). A couple years later my son was taller than I, had better skills and the boys relegated me to my daughter’s team. By my mid 40s it was like, “Hope your Dad isn’t going to play, he screws up too much.”
Then one day I went to Seattle to work for a few weeks, I found I couldn’t tell the difference from an 1/8 to a 1/4 on a tape measure, what was up with that? In the evenings at the motel I couldn’t read, my arms had gotten too short. A few weeks later I checked into the local optometrist and got my first pair of glasses, it was a miracle! I could see again, I was 47 years old. Along life’s journey my boss made me an offer I couldn’t refuse, if I would stay ’til I was 55 I could retire and enjoy some benefits that we had worked out.
My wife and I had bought some rural property earlier and remodeled a rundown cabin. We started building a retirement home two years before retirement, working every weekend, every vacation and every day I could sneak off from work. When the big day came we moved into our home and finished it out, hell, I was a young guy, right, 12 hour days were something I’d grown accustomed to and was no big deal.
The days went by, growing a big garden, cutting fire wood, the fishing and hunting, traveling. My daughter got married, started making babies and now my wife and I were grandparents, what the hell is up with that? Where did the time go? Then my son got married and divorced before the ink was dry on the marriage license.
Life was good, until I got a phone call, a classmate had died and the funeral was…. Then another and another. Every few months. I began to look at my friends and classmates more critically, I’m guessing they were looking at me the same way. I was thinking I was still the same person, but the testosterone was telling me different. Some things were NOT the same! Mrs Fourscore started staying up late, TV was more interesting than me. The side effects of the purple pills were as bad as the hangovers I’d had before I quit drinking.
If one has 2-3 good friends consider yourself lucky. I have my bestie from 3rd grade and two from 9th grade. These are guys that you would loan all the money in your billfold without worrying about getting it back or ever getting it back, and vice versa. I consider myself very lucky and we’re all the same age. A year or two ago I found myself sort of shuffling my feet as I walked outside. I started paying attention and I was dragging at least one foot, not serious but still…. Then I saw one of the boys with the same problem. Another has osteoporosis. I have been falling down a couple times a year, always looking around to see if anyone has seen me ’cause I would be embarrassed.
My work days are shortened to a couple hours in the morning, couple hours in the afternoon. Bending over cutting firewood with a chainsaw is tougher, running a splitter is in 45 minute spurts. Dressing out a deer requires having a tree nearby to help me stand up. We’ve been doing flyin fishing trips to Ontario for the past 21 years, after this last one in June we had to admit we’re just not able to do it anymore. The drive is 9 hours, getting in and out of the boat is difficult and dangerous. It doesn’t hold the mystique that previous years have had.
I only have one prescription pill, a beta blocker that regulates my heart. I run 44-48 BPM, even after exercise I can only make about 60 BPM and is quickly restored back to normal. I use an 81 mg aspirin, any slight scratch or cut bleeds profusely. A calcium and vitamin round out my pill popping.
I’ve had a few surgeries, hernias, varicose veins, 25 years ago had a bone growth removed from my heel. A few years ago I developed a sticky trigger finger and had it repaired, two years later same problem other hand. BTW these would not have been done with single payer, while the fingers were painful and annoying it was not life threatening. Had cataract surgery, resulted in no improvement in vision. A couple years ago I was having deteriorating vision problems, many check ups, new glasses, consultations. The prognosis was not good. Then a few months ago I got my last prescription and suddenly I could see, read, drive safely, it was finally a usable prescription. I’ll be in my deer stand in November.
The psychological part of aging is something that preys on my mind. There are no more surprises in life. I don’t worry about my kids (well, OK, I do) but there is nothing I can do. I can’t worry about my grandchildren, they have youth on their side. I’ve outgrown politics by becoming a libertarian many years ago. All politicians look the same to me. Like many others here I am an introvert, took a long time to learn to like myself. My wife and I have structured our assets in a trust, ’cause my family is mostly dysfunctional.
My two older brothers died 7 years ago, making me the patriarch by default. It’s an easy task, since no one pays attention to me anyway. One older female cousin in bad health, a few younger ones but most with serious health problems. The greatest worry is the mental deterioration. So far, so good.
We’re having our annual Honey Harvest on Sep 16th. I’m hoping the MN glibs and any local lurkers will attend. All glibs are invited, but unless you are in the area it’s not worth the effort. We will spin out the honey, eat lunch, tell lies and we’re family friendly.
As someone who sees his sphere of friends dwindling and mobility increasingly becoming a problem, I am truly grateful to those running this site and all those who contribute to making my days a little brighter. I have a lot of new friends that I’ve never met.
My father is 83 now. He plays gold 250 times a year. I can’t keep up with him.
Honey is good. Mead is better.
golf, not gold.
Gold ain’t bad either
If he was making money instead of spending it, I might see an inheritance.
😉
Just in case it’s not clear.
My kids are much nicer to me these days, I know what you are talking about.
When my Dad was 74 he shot under his age on an 18-hole-Jack Nicklaus course. Two weeks later he was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia.
My father shot his age through most of his mid to late 70s. Now he regularly beats his age in 80s.
Of course, he’s playing from the ladies tees now.
What gender does he identify as?
Scoundrel.
Donated blood today and I was asked this question. I said what were my options. They told me male or female. I thought WTF, the American Red Cross is not woke. Then they asked me for my gender identity. I said lesbian trapped in a man’s body as a joke, and the lady took it down as is without even a semblance of a reaction.
My dad is 83 as well. Goes to the gym 3-5 times a week in addition to walking. Pretty sure the only reason the dirty old bastard goes to the gym is to see the young girls in yoga pants. Carry on dad.
He plays golf too.
I have a treadmill in the garage (my office). I put on some cowboy tunes, been do 4 miles at 4 MPH, then a few light weight bench presses. I even lift, bro!
My dad is but 67, but he plays the hell outta some golf. His father is 94 and still went for daily walks around the neighborhood until he broke his hip a few weeks ago. Fortunately, he came through the replacement surgery OK and is rehabbing it right now.
Tough about your grandfather, give him a shout out from a kid.
It is tough, but he’s a tough old fella too. Still lives on his own. My parents tried to get him to move in with them a while back, but he wouldn’t even consider it.
I know he likely doesn’t have that much time left – besides the hip, he has a pacemaker and goes to dialysis twice a week – but I can’t imagine him dying. He just IS, you know?
My grandfather was much the same way. A bull of a man. He passed in 2014 at the age of 95.
He stayed active until the last few months. He died in his own home as he wanted.
Mine is 85. He is in great physical health. Unfortunately, he has no idea who I am. My Mom is the only person he still knows.
My maternal grandfather was like that. He lived with dementia for a decade before he died. It was not good.
Mine died at 85 after two years of this, losing control of all bodily functions, and basically going back to being a baby after having been one of the strongest men you could have imagined. I told my brothers at his funeral that I will eat a bullet before I let that happen to me.
Alzheimer’s (and equivalents) are the only thing that scares me.
It is worse than cancer, IMO.
I don’t know…cancer can take you young. But, cancer you can understand the process. There is something to try, even if it is eventually futile. My Dad’s drugs have slowed down the process. That isn’t enough.
I have guns and alcohol. If cancer becomes unbearable, I know how to resolve the problem.
If I lose my mind, then I cease to exist. What’s left is just a burden on my wife and children.
This is why we need to take your guns away.
My children do not know about the guns yet since my wife and I are new to collecting them.
We’ll probably keep it that way.
Try to make it look like an accident… for insurance claims.
“Area man shot self in head while cleaning firearm”
“Dog shoots area man in head”
“Area man dies in orgy warehouse fire with cheerleading squad”
That’s the plan.
My father’s mother went that way. The only thing that kept my dad’s stress level to manageable the last five years was acknowledging that his mother was already gone, and he was going to visit and take care of the body that had carried her around for the previous 80 years because it was a way to honor her memory.
My great grandmother died from early onset Alzheimer’s, and my grandmother was the one that took care of her during her illness. Watching that happen to her was horrifying enough that my grandmother was elated when she was diagnosed with cancer, since she knew it would kill her with her mind intact. Dementia, of any variety, is a horrible thing.
Sometimes the mind is the first thing to go, luckily my parents still had their faculties, my brother died from cirrhosis, though he hadn’t had a drink for 30 years or more. He was didn’t eat right, didn’t take care of himself, was overweight. Anyway, cirrhosis has some of the same symptoms as Alzheimer’s, the memory loss, the forgetfulness. It also comes with some serious physical problems that finally did him in. He was just 76.
My Dad was 94 when he died last May.
I’d give a year off of my life to spend one more hour with him. He was the finest man I’ve ever known.
But the point about generations is well taken. When I heard about Dad, I told Mrs. Animal, “Well, I guess I’m the Old Man now.”
I’ve said the same about my Dad. He was only 60 when he passed. I’ll trade my year for a day to spend with him, though.
What’s rough is that I didn’t get the chance to know him as an adult. In my teenage years, he was frequently ill and then bedridden for the last four years of his life. His wife and my former stepmom kept him hopped up on painkillers, either by necessity or negligence. Visiting him was tough because the conversation was one-sided.
My main comfort is that I knew him just well enough to have some amount of hero-worship of him. I’m sure there’s a lot of flaws I get to gloss over.
Wait, you want people on your lawn? Or is this an elaborate rouse so you have more people to shake your cane at?
Good luck with the harvest. Growing old sucks, I’m glad you’re still finding joy in life.
At this point the harvest looks pretty good. Don’t believe every thing you read about bees dying. My lawn is more like a nature preserve, lots of mosquitoes and other critters. Being old means not worrying about neighbor’s opinions.
But it beats the alternative…
My high school class is down to about 1/2. I got nominated class historian, by default, ’cause no one wanted the job. Class reunions are minimal and the Honey Harvest is kind of a reunion, those local and able to come will show up. The ladies still know how to cook.
But it beats the alternative…
As my father tells me regularly.
Not if I am a bumbling idiot, incontinent, think everyone I meet is a stranger, and in general have the quality of life of a zombie.
Get off my lawn!
When I was heavier, I felt more my age. Having lost almost 60 lbs, I feel much younger. I’m sure at some point in the future, it will catch up to me. Though, for now, I’m feeling better than most of my 30’s.
Wow! Congrats on that spectacular weight loss!
Thank you.
9/1/18 will be the three year mark for me going keto/lc.
I just started the <50g carb thing a week ago, and Im optimistic. After the 1st 48-72 hours of carb withdrawal, and wanting to hit someone, Im actually pretty happy.
Good luck with it. For me, it’s been one of the best choices I’ve ever made.
My glucose has been dancing around the “you’re eligible for metformin” line, and I know its wholly due to being overweight and a poor diet. Once I learned that 50g and under is a decent threshold, and the crappy Keystone Light I drink is only 4.5g, any apprehension vanished.
Like I said, only a week, but boy do I already miss bread.
These are pretty damn good.
https://alldayidreamaboutfood.com/cheddar-drop-biscuits-and-the-cabot-fit-team/
Even better topped with oregano or Italian seasoning.
I killed myself when I turned 30,
And I still enjoyed this article.
Carousel?
… Hobbit
I can’t decide which side of this coin is tolerable: I won’t live long enough to see an America that is much different from this one, but, if given the chance, I’d sign some Faustian deal that promised my son’s life would be no better but no worse or different than mine has been….I’d lock that in.
Meanwhile, I’m terrified by popular suffrage. My drooling truck-driving family get to vote, and they are idiots by any measure and by all evidence. We definitely need a government that is so tiny that it doesn’t matter who these rubes elect….but there is little hope of that. They will vote for free shit until I’m out of money, so now that facebook philosophy is in charge, I’m terrified of the trends that my weak, aging demographic can’t resist or outvote.
You know, Don, that’s something I think about, too. I’d like to see the next act, the other shoe to drop. I know it won’t make any difference but curiosity.
I keep thinking that they need to hurry up with the next civil war before I get too much older.
Nice article, Fourscore. Good luck in the tree-stand this fall!
I didn’t realize you were in Minnesota. What area?
If you draw a line from Fargo to Duluth it’ll go through my garage., about 1/2 way in between.
I’ve run a lot of winter test miles on the roads around Bemidji and met a ton of folks in the course of that business
and if I had to choose a place for my next breakdown it would be in upstate MN on a country road in two feet of February snow because someone will stop, everyone will help, and there will be walleye to eat that night as we retell the story
Perch and panfish both taste better than walleyes.
Panfish fight harder than walleyes too. Still no idea why walleyes captured the imagination of the Minnesodans.
^ This might be the smartest thing you’ve ever said on here. ^
Talk about low bars…
Sure…I’m a bream guy myself
but that’s not what’s on the welcometoMN billboards
You are correct. In fairness to the NoDaks when they would show up in my hometown to fish they would actually fish for “game” fish like walleyes, panfish and northerns.
The absolute worst were the Iowegians who would drive north and ask for hot tips to a ….. bullhead hole.
Those maniacs would ignore all the great fishing they could do and go with the fish they grew up on. We were all too happy to point them to local lakes they could help clean out of bullheads.
Rumors were always floating around that the local game warden – who was an absolute hardass – had let some people he pulled over go free because they were from Iowa and had multiple coolers full of bullheads. The game warden allegedly read them the riot act and let them go with a warning because he didn’t really think catching every bull head was really a violation of the game laws.
I’m partial to croppie myself.
Crappie are good, but in the battle for tastiest panfish Bluegill is king.
Bluegills are also some of the funnest fish to catch. If they grew to be 3lb, you would need to use shark tackle to bring them in.
The Iowa folks come for the walleyes, stay for the bullheads…
I had a place I rented for two years in KS, with a stocked farm pond.
The ‘Florida Hybrid’ bluegill would get like slabs, well over a pound.
In the spring, as they’d start breeding and nesting, the fishing was glorious.
Twice the fight of the largemouths that were the other prevalent fish.
Yeah. on a fly rod the little devils put up a great fight.
Remember: there is no reason to be alive if you can’tdo deadlift.
The knees don’t work so well any more, oh, my aching back.
I’ll be doing deadlifts at the gym this evening. I took some time off and reset my self and restarted the Rippetoe stuff again last month. Now I’m pretending to work back up to some max weight.
I reality, I’ll be doing sets I could have done without working up a sweat when I was in college and 45 lbs lighter. My max will be determined not by back strength but my achy hands and how sore I’m willing to get. My 17-year-old son is deadlifting almost 200 lbs more than me a couple of times a week.
I’d say “screw-it” but I’m too stubborn to stop and become a fat old piece of shit like so many guys I see in their 50’s.
I’m with you, pride keeps us doing things that perhaps we shouldn’t. My lifts aren’t much but they can’t be harmful/
Pride hurts. Sometimes it can do real damage too.
That’s weird how when you’re firing a Barrett, it just looks like a normal gun
The only thing that bugs me about getting older is how fast the time is passing now. Years used to seem like a very long time, now they fly by before I even notice. Hell, thinking just about this site, how can it be that it’s been here a year and a half already?
It’s been that little span? It feels like this site has been here forever.
You’re telling me! 😉
One of the things that seem to happen is how time speeds up. G. Carlin had a great monologue on this. I spend a lot of time reminiscing (alone) about the things that happened in the past, remembering my parents, my kids, etc. Seems like every story I tell my grandkids starts out, “When I was a kid”…I’m sure they get tired of hearing the old time things but I am convinced in 60 years they will tell their grandkids the same story, only updated. Regrettably my Dad never talked about his youth too much, we lost a lot of history ’cause of that.
My dad has gotten to the age that he’s repeating stories he’s told me several times before in the past, having forgotten that he’s already told them to me. I don’t mind because I’m just glad we get to spend a lot of time together since we live about 15 minutes from each other, but it’s pretty funny sometimes.
My father’s go to phrase was “When I was your age…”
We still give him shit about it.
Agree on time speeding up. When I was a kid it took about 10 years to get from Thanksgiving to opening presents on Christmas Eve. Now it takes about 2 days.
I used to be with it
Summer used to last forever. I was like a different person by the time we hit Labor Day and I went back to school. Now, it’ll be Thanksgiving in about a week.
It’s perspective – we always think of time based on nature and the instruments by which we mark it’s passing. In fact, our only true perception of the actual passage of time is as a fraction of our own lifespan; as that lifespan grows, the demarcation lines appear closer together.
My Dad is also 83, but is pretty unsteady and frail. He was always very active doing physical work of various kinds, ate right etc, but he also smoked from age 13 to age 80. He’s now on oxygen. He needs to stick around for a while, though, because I’m not ready for a world without him in it yet.
Dad has echoed many of your thoughts, Fourscore. You’ve hit on something quite personal, yet universal. Thank you for writing!
Thanks to you, SP, for motivating me, plus all the work you do keeping everything together. I get up early in the morning, looking for two things. My coffee fix and my Glib fix. So far neither has let me down, unlike the happening in Cleveland.
I’m not ready for a world without him in it yet.
It barely phased dad when his dad passed. He’d been so enfeebled by Parkinson’s at that point that he seemed half in the grave already.
Almost twenty years later, dad’s nearing sixty and talking retirement and how he’ll spend the time he has left. The thought of not having him around is gob smacking. No sign of granddad’s disease, thank God.
What are the things that every generation “discovers?”
a/ sex
b/ drugs
c/ roots music
d/ regret
e/ nostalgia
f/ mortality
m/ the alphabet
Four,
You pre-empted me. Sending you an email was on my list of things to do today. My wife and I did the scheduling for September this weekend and we put the Honey Festival on the calendar!
Hopefully a few of the other Minn-Glibs will show up too.
We are looking forward to seeing you in real life. Don’t worry, you just need to be nicer than Tundra to not be the Worst Minn-Glib. Very low bar.
I thought you were the low Minn-Glib? I coulda sworn…
Telling slanderous lies about fine folk like me is one of the reasons that Tundra is the low Minn-Glib. I’m a poor second to last on that poll. I’m sure FourScore will have no problem ranking above me either.
It’ll be great to meet you folks and hopefully some other glibs. I can promise you you won’t get stung by a bee but I can’t promise you that you won’t get sticky.
ah, getting sticky: a young man’s game that I still play, poorly
I’m a part-time lurker. Is this your first masturbation euphemism here?
4Score, that was excellent.
Me, I look in the mirror and think, “How the fuck did that happen?”
So much this OMWC. And for my age I still look pretty good.
For me, everything was doing well until about 7 or 8 years ago, when suddenly I rapidly started becoming an Old Guy.
FTR, I don’t think you look like an “old guy.”
Damn, me too. Some mornings I look in the mirror and think “who the hell is this old bastard”.
I look in the mirror every morning and say, “God damn, it’s good to see you again”. One thing that hasn’t changed though, is looking at the girls.
I was sitting in a bar with a friend one day and there was a gaggle of college-age girls a few seats down. We were admiring them when I realized, “Oh, shit! WE are the creepy old guys!”
One of my best friends and I were reviewing our youth, commenting that the old characters we knew around town when we were kids are all gone. His wife overheard us and said “You two are the old characters” We looked at one another and realized she had spoken the truth. The torch had been passed.
My dad is 76, and is shrinking before my eyes. He used to be 5’11-ish, not stands at 5’6″-ish from a humped over back, like he can’t straighten himself out anymore. It got noticeable worse when they moved to their new house. At their old place he was hiking all over the woods, cutting trees, chopping wood, and doing deliveries to the local food pantry. Now he can barely lift anything and also needs a hernia operation since he definitely tried to do too much during the move. He spends too much time sitting now, watching hours of TV a day.
I’m in my late-40s now – and the world seems like such a smaller, more sterile place now that friends and family have moved or passed on. I’m old enough to remember the groovin’ 70s which still had the tail end of the 1960s. People – in general – seem a lot more boring now (and maybe I am too). Especially when that youthful energy tails off. I know I’m less interested in my hobbies, and even don’t get the same kind of excitement I once did from music. I have little interest i the vast majority of woman my age since they haven’t taken care of themselves, and I find younger women nice to look at but once they open their mouths… bah! *shakes cane at the world*
It’s really bizarre, I was 6’5″ in my heyday. I’m notw 6’2′. After 50 we shrink an inch every 10 years. My son has lost an inch, he’s right on schedule. I hadn’t measured myself for many years , I stood in front of a mirror, put a book on my head and drew the line with a magic marker. Used a tape measure. I was 6’3″. I thought,” well, that’s wrong”. I looked to see if the tape was broken off before I realize that if the tape was broken I’d been taller.
Damn, I just turned 49 and I’m only 5’7″ as it is 🙁
I can’t afford to lose a lot of inches.
I can’t afford to lose a lot of inches.
None of us can, Rhywun. None of us can.
Get outta my head!
Off topic.
https://abcnews.go.com/US/shooter-florida-stand-ground-case-charged-manslaughter/story?id=57151343
Dude that shot other dude, charged with manslaughter.
The race of the victim seem irrelevant but I see they managed to squeeze it into the first sentence anyway.
I agree. Now, I assume you feel the same way about Antifa?
If you’re not in fear of injury, it’s murder.
If you get off on getting assholes in trouble (okay), why not just file a complaint since there is assault on video?
Favorite vicious circle: I hate people >> so I carry >> so I can’t get into it with people over stupid stuff since it might escalate >> so I avoid people even more
I only had to watch the video once to see that the shooter pretty much violated every rule I was taught in concealed carry class.
I’m glad to see the guy is being prosecuted.
I look forward to the nuanced articles that will explain how this case is different than the Zimmerman/Martin shooting.
Never mind.
Ah, I see you’re a man of culture as well.
Excellent article.
But why, if I’m getting old, I’m still as stupid as I was when I was 20?
Does anybody else feel this way? No older, no wiser. Same body that’s just gotten a tidge more irritating. In my head and mirror I’m 20 and just as much an idiot.
From reading your comments on here, I seriously doubt you are just as “stupid” as you were when you were 20. And I doubt even at 20 that you were stupid. I’m guessing you’re being too hard on yourself.
*blush* Thank you. IRL I am a complete ditz.
I actually feel that what has changed for me is that I have gotten far more risk averse, Mojeaux. Yeah, I have a harder time recalling things that came easy before, and I have had to give up a lot of things I took for granted, but that is the thing that always catches my attention.
I actually feel that what has changed for me is that I have gotten far more risk averse, Mojeaux.
Same here. I look back on things I did in my twenties and there’s just no way I’d do them now.
Although, professionally, I’m probably less risk averse, because I’m more confident.
Hah! Just wrote below that mentally I stopped aging at 19. Totally with you on the lack of mental aging. The only improvement is that I sort of remember how dumb I am. When I was really 19, I didn’t have a clue that I was this dumb.
Wow: I probably peaked at 30 mentally.
My academic and technical prowess continued to advance well into my twenties, but the whole thing of how people think, where the real risks were, evaluating things meaningfully, making practical assessments and predictions….knitting it all together takes experience and time…which is learning and growing still.
The things people, institutions, and firms attempt that I once would have optimistically supported I can now tell you why they will fail. I’m now much more risk adverse, ignore promises and advertising. I try to help others understand, but no one wants to listen, so I just invest otherwise and play more golf.
My best engineering work was in my late 40s to early 50s. Now that I am 61, I am starting the long, slow, slide into oblivion.
I find engineering per se easy and almost boring: arranging and sizing things is almost obvious kid stuff. What intrigues me is understanding the client, helping him better define his complete needs, and conceiving the way a solution should be integrated….getting him to say and spec and appreciate (pay for) what he really needs.
Selling the answer is fun: here’s how to present, how to write, how to tell, how the prototype or model works. And here’s me still listening to the fourth-round criticisms and learning the room: there’s still more to this, they’re still learning what they need, there is more functionality to be delivered, more integration needed. There is no telling how much I missed when I was 25.
I spent the bulk of 97-06 working pursuits. This involved traveling around the globe with project managers talking directly to customers and designing solutions to satisfy their stated and unstated requirements. When that got boring, I spent most the the next 10 years doing IRAD that was influenced by ten years of costumer interactions.
Now, I sit in the office trying to look busy as the company gives all the cool work to people 20 to 30 years younger than me.
My dad died at 51 of a heart attack. Second best thing that ever happened to me.
Mom’s still alive and kicking at 74. She and I are super good friends. We survived a 7-day road trip together without killing each other too.
My mom and I conversed more in her final two years after me and the siblings bought her a computer and she discovered new hobbies etc. etc. than in the previous ten or fifteen years. Her mind was as sharp as ever but her body took a sudden turn for the worse and then she was gone at 72.
I’m sorry.
I am my mother’s executrix. We are very pragmatic about death, and keep talking about sitting down and going over her estate so I know where everything is, but it never seems to happen. I dread the day, but I hope she lives as long as her mother did.
She has a bad back, but she’s active with church and her sisters (she lives with her two widowed sisters). She is an excellent pianist and keeps her mind sharp as a tack. She is an accountant at heart. She’s got a wide circle of friends and everybody adores her. I will never have to worry about her driving because she’s such a good one (she just can’t do 1500-mile jaunts straight through anymore like she used to).
She just really really blossomed after my dad died. They loved each other, don’t misunderstand, but his gregarious personality outshone hers, and she never really knew what she was capable of doing until she didn’t have to support (emotionally speaking) someone who was doing his thing.
“Second best thing that ever happened to me”
Because he was a bad guy?
He was very controlling AND he gave bad advice, which I followed.
His death set me free.
I wouldn’t have so many issues with feeling older if the following things were eliminated from my life:
a) My kids and wife constantly laughing at my proclamations that I am a spring chicken
b) Accidentally running across old pictures of myself (and kids and wife). Holy shit, what happened there
c) Young people giving me pitying glances when I am telling them my stories.
d) my body not living up to its end of the bargain. Why won’t it heal up from minor injuries like it used to?
e) My parents getting into their late ’70s and having health issues. I figure as long as they are kicking, I got nothing to worry about. So they should take better care of themselves.
Mentally, I still run around most of the time thinking I’m 19 (that is when I was legal to drink in minnesoda). It is only when some of those age factors listed above impinge on my bubble that I realize that I might be aging.
One of the keys to keeping the bubble inflated is that I play hoops every winter with the same bunch of guys for the last 30 years. Since all of our skillz have deteriorated at the same pace, we can all pretend that we are still youngsters. In recent years, though, even that has had reality intrude. I have brought my 17yr old kid with me a few times when we’ve needed an extra player. Holy Shi-ite! The kid who I used to patiently praise for just getting the ball as high as the rim, is now zooming around the court and can come close to dunking. WTF?
This.
I do not want to be the patriarch yet.
I became the oldest male in our extended family when my uncle died in May.
I guess I have to be an adult now.
… Hobbit
Since both my father and grandfather are still fit as a fiddle (well, sort of – both mentally all there, at least) I’m merely third in the line of succession, which suits me fine 🙂
Another victim of the peanut butter & pet routine? Aging makes weird shit happen…
Thanks Fourscore I’m 3 1/2 score +1 and have been an avid bike rider (pedal not motor) all my life.One of my great joys was the downhills which more than paid off for the uphills. 60 mph on 1″1/4 tires is a real thrill. Crazy mountain trails are also a blast.
I can’t do the mountain trails any more without staying on the brakes the whole time – the reflexes just aren’t there. Last night on my evening ride I even backed off on paved downhill (maybe 30 mph) I got that “I’m falling way behind here, better slow down” feeling instead of “Faster, Faster.”
And tumbling down a hillside isn’t something I can just laugh off now.
Well I still have all of my hair (no receding hair line and no gray) and, just recently, can now fit into the same size jeans I wore in high school.
It’s strange – a lot of the younger guys I knew in the punk rock scene days look like hell now, even though they are 3-8 years younger than I am. Excessive beer drinking takes a toll.
::sips on gin ‘n’ diet tonic::
Setting: Dayroom at a nursing home
75 y/o – “I cant piss any more. It wont come out”
85 y/o – “That’s nuthin. I cant shit any more. I am completely clogged up.”
95 y/o – “You think that’s bad? I have no problem pissin’ or shittin’. Nuthin to it. I piss at 6am and shit at 7am every morning like clockwork.”
75 y/o and 85 y/o – “Really? That sounds great. Why do you make it sound bad?”
95 y/o – “I dont wake up until 8am”
Excellent article, FS.
I keep rediscovering my age. I retired and wanted to finish some construction work around the house only to discover that my shoulder is too messed up to swing a framing hammer, my back will not let me work overhead, and my knees hurt too much to lift anything or to climb any ladders.
What’s that they say, “Getting old is not for the weak or timid”.
… Hobbit
I have six or eight major house projects that I plan to do. I spend a lot of time thinking which order they need to be done is so that I don’t get so old I can’t do them.
After about 70 it seemed like the projects weren’t as important as they had been. Now its trying to keep up the routine maintenance..I need some work done now, I’ll hire someone.
I figure I have 4 to 6 years to finish off all the building projects or they will never get done.
Thanks, Hobbit, I climbed up on the roof this spring (4-12 pitch) to sweep off some pine needles., that may have been the last time. I have a lot of discomfort getting the knees to work properly but if you tell me I’ll have to climb the ladder to my deerstand I can handle that.
Sorry to go OT so early, but, this piece seems to fit very closely to some ideas that had been germinating with me about the popular zeitgeist for a while. And I’m not entirely sure its unintentional.
Maybe one of advantages of being old is that we grew up before our minds got mangled this badly.
Excellent link – thanks. The quest for control is intentional.
Too bad kids care so much about what others think.
Stepson to Suthenboy after Suthenboy warns him- “How do you always know what is going to happen?”
Suthenboy – “How do you think I know?”
Stepson – “Cuz’ you have seen it all before?”
Bingo.
I have had a couple of conversations with my own father recently and I realized he has seen it all and done it all twice over. He is 79. *sigh*
I had that come to Jesus moment at age 23. Realized that had I listened to my dad’s advice, I would have avoided a lot of really bad shit that happened because I thought I knew better. I realize that many people take a lot, lot longer to figure that out. Then your parents go from obnoxious people telling you what to do to wise people. It did frame things for me correctly when it was my turn to be the parent. Of course my kid, despite dyslexia, figured this shit way earlier and has avoided a ton of the stupid crap I went through. Life is not fair.
My father fed me a continuous stream of Mark Twain quotes from my teen-aged years and beyond. This is one he told very early on.
“When I was a boy of 14, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be 21, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned in seven years.” — Mark Twain
Hah hah! Your dad and mine must have known each other! Funny how it didn’t register with me until I got it.
At 25, Henny Youngman’s (Jungmann?) “take my wife” routine was the stupidest thing I had ever heard.
At 35, I couldn’t stop laughing.
“I take my wife everywhere, but she finds her way home!”
Mr Smith (on phone): Nurse, my wife came home upset, but she won’t tell me what’s going on.
Nurse: We saw two Mrs Smiths today, one had AIDS the other Alzheimer’s.
Mr Smith: How do know which she has.
Nurse: Take her for a drive. Drop her off someplace. If she finds her way home, don’t fuck her.
Schizophrenia runs in my father’s family.
Mom’s mom had Alzheimer’s.
I’m hoping to forget to go crazy.
Could be worse, you could never come to that realization because it isn’t true.
My father was in his own way a smart man and did have some measure of wisdom but he was also uneducated, anti intellectual, superstitious, prone to developing insane conspiracy theories, and legitimately mentally ill (PTSD from Vietnam that went undiagnosed for 30 years and likely some kinds what went back further and were never diagnosed).
For example, He was convinced that Guinea Pigs were created by NASA labs using genetic engineering in the 60’s and that China had more aircraft carriers and a larger navy than the US.
I learned at a pretty young age that while the old man was right about some things it would be best if I never put too much stock in anything he said until I could verify it for myself
My mother believed that FDR saved us from the depression. It was way past high school before I began to read and learn and understand that not every thing our parents knew was accurate.
I remember the old folks (gma, great-aunts and great-uncles) sitting around badmouthing FDR, resenting WWI, convinced he knew about the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor and let it happen to get us into WWII.
That was a huge schism in my family.
My maternal^2 great-grandmother had been widowed and lionized FDR. Basically, her husband (my great-granddad) had made lots of money as a judge, but had no estate plan, and not much in the way of savings.
She considered social security to be the greatest thing ever, and wouldn’t hear a word against FDR.
My grandpa (her son in law) hated FDR because he was a Goldwater conservative, and he came of age during the depression. He rose from hauling ice for a living to be the CEO of a company in a very highly regulated industry, and he was scathing in his harsh criticism of FDR’s economic interventions. He loathed the man with a passion.
My great-grandma lived with them for about 10 years after she lost her house. Apparently there were some pretty nasty political arguments.
Vox engages in some vigorous pearl-clutching, belatedly acknowledging that these Antifa fellows seem to be somewhat prone to violence.
I saw that yesterday.
It’s amazing to me that Trump’s war against the press is being run in the streets by antifa.
And the best part:
This weekend in Charlottesville and DC, though, it wasn’t neo-Nazis and white supremacists the antifa attacked. It was police who were there to help keep the peace among all the demonstrators and journalists who were there to cover the events.
How that factors into antifa’s ideology is anyone’s guess.
“Gee, we can’t figure out how the ideology of communist revolutionaries is influencing their violent actions”
Yikes. When you’ve lost Vox….
Didn’t Hitler’s brown shirts love to knock in heads and break shit in the name of social justice as well? Fuck they burned down the Reichstag so they could justify going even more violent. Now we have a group doing the same shit, and the irony of irony’s is that they call them selves Antifa and pretend to be anti fascists when they are nothing but collectivist agitators in the mold of the brownshirts of old.
Actually, although it was long assumed that they had burned down the Reichstag themselves, many historians (such as Ian Kershaw) concluded that Marius van der Lubbe actually did do it.
It’s not shocking.
There are two ideological groups that form something like 95% of Antifas membership.
Anarcho-communists, and syndicalists.
Mussolini, the inventor of fascism, was a communist-turned-syndicalist. Mussolini’s Italy was essentially an attempt to make syndicalism work within the framework of a nation state.
The anarcho-communists, in turn, are not very anarchist, and if you listen to their demands of the state – if the state is to exist and if it hasn’t nationalized everything, they want it at least run on syndicalist lines.
So, Anti-fa are literally fascists. They think they’re anti-fascist. In fact many of them believe truly that they are opposed to fascism because they are ignorant as to what fascism is. But that’s what they are fighting for.
lol
the alt-right wins again.
Thanks, man! Good read.
I had some thoughts this morning on reaching old lady milestones.
I can’t speak for the ladies but I watch Mrs Fourscore and I worry. She is a couple years older than I am but still mean as hell. She needs me to open jars for her though so job security.
If I didn’t need my garbage taken out, I doubt I would ever date again 🙂
That has to be a euphemism.
I thought it was ashes hauled or is that last century
The obvious solution to this conundrum is to not have kids.
Then history and the universe ends with you; no reason to ever step outside your solipsistic box.
I’m on it.
My dad died at 51, his dad around the same age. My goal was to go a bit farther. Success!! 54 next month.
My younger brother has had 2 heart attacks and more stents than a light rail. In 4 days, it’ll be 1 year on
my own cardiac rebellion. Eh, it is what it is. Modified my diet (slightly), trying to quit smoking and take my
meds -BP, Cholesterol, blood thinner and 1 full strength aspirin.
Best news? I’ve been retired for about 6 years (early) and just need 3 more for full pension.
I switched to vaping last week and I’m lovin’ it. Don’t miss cigarettes at all.
Good luck with whatever you’re trying!
I’ve vaped off and on for 3-4 years. not the same to me.
My most recent attempt was combo of time and patches.
Found an app that would “tell” me when to smoke.
Worked well except for 2 things. 1) drinking 2) mornings
Ha. I tried the pencil and paper version of that 25 years ago. Didn’t work.
The Juul has been extremely effective for me. I tried about 5 different vaping solutions before Los Doyers recommended this to me. It actually scratches the smoking itch, and not just the nicotine itch. I have on multiple occasions gone out to a serious night of drinking and only hit the Juul, which never happened before. On all other vape products, I would end up bumming/buying cigarettes about the 4th drink. Also, weirdly, some days I vape and some days I don’t. Even if I vaped heavily the night before.
Had never heard of it. How long do the pods last? I’m just under a pack a day
Each pod is supposed to be about one pack or “200 puffs”. I’m averaging about one pod per day and a half. Which is weird because I smoked over a pack a day and I’m out of work sitting around the house all day.
*cough DOUCHE FLUTE cough*
Just kidding….as someone thats quit cigs a couple times (nearly 4 years now) I feel your pain. Keep it up.
My wife was just diagnosed with “mild” emphysema. She has slowed down smoking some, but not quit. (It has only bee a couple weeks) I keep reminding her that she doesn’t want to drag one of those green bottles around.
What style vaping device are you using?
Just Juul actually – no fancy device for me. At least not yet.
Is she a candidate for the Chantix? I can’t recommend it highly enough. It’s a miracle drug.
Not sure. The problem so far is that she doesn’t want to quit. I will try and sneak it into a conversation sometime soon. I’ve wanted her to quit for some time, but it has taken on a new urgency now.
The beauty of Chantix is that you just keep right on smoking when you start it. After about a week, cigarettes begin to taste and smell horrible. The moment where you light up and inhale for the first time becomes meaningless and unsatisfactory. It’s a great way to go for people that love to smoke.
I asked my doc about that and he tells me it doesn’t work for everyone. What makes someone a candidate?
Thanks KK. I’ll definitely mention it to her.
I once worked with a guy who said he got all bitchy and argumentative when he was on it. But I always thought he was a little “off” anyway, so…
I was a 2 pack a day guy. I cold turkeyed over 40 years ago. I think it saved my life. My dad and step father suffered from emphysema. Their last years were not fun. The first of my classmates to leave were mostly the smokers/heavy drinkers. In their 50s.
Glad you got to see some retirement.
#metoo. Hated that job but the whole roof, food and clothes thing.
Dad is 78 and plays from the short tees with us every Saturday. He is a tough bastard who didn’t finish high school and who thinks this indoor plumbing stuff is mighty handy. He broke his right wrist as a toddler and it healed so horribly that he golfs and does almost everything else lefthanded….and poorly.
Golf tells on a fellow. Dad once could shoot 80 but now is a 30 handicap, which in and of itself is perfectly okay. But every month or so he loses something and can’t get it back, and you can’t even talk to him about it. He was a mean chipper, but now he does something so monstrously stupid and unproductive that I won’t trouble you with its description, and it never works…..three piddling, embarrassing, slow, hopeless efforts, half his score, it seems. He has nothing better to do with his time than go see his (my) pro and get straightened out; he’s got tons of space to practice in and more money than he will ever spend. He has nothing better to do. And he’s not going to do any of it.
Which is his call: he is free to fall apart anyway he wants….but not anywhere: somewhere when his 100 strokes start to take us past four hours and reasonable folk are backing up behind us, that’s going to be his last invitation, which all of us are going to hate….but it is coming.
And he still won’t go see the pro because his hearing/cognition/processing/adapting/learning loop is an open circuit….fried through. At some level he knows he can’t understand what the pro will tell him, he can’t even monkey do the thing he just monkey saw any more, even though he is emotionally there and wants to. He can’t process or learn any more. He doesn’t think from fundamentals anymore: the facts of why a golf ball does what it does do not factor into what he attempts to foist upon a golf ball. He is detached, and his quiver of things that work and that he still can do the way he always did is down to its last few arrows.
We all get there. I’m going to miss him on the links. And this tells me I will be missing him entirely, off the links as well, sooner than later.
“I used to have the body of a Greek God. Now I just look like a goddamn Greek”
-cant remember who said that
Fourscore – great post. This one definitely hits home.
I just turned 30 and feel like the last six months have been a “holy shit!” moment of sorts. Seeing lots of my friends now starting to not only get married but also have kids; seeing my grandma start to run into health issues; seeing my mom and dad take on new roles (dad semi-retired, in his early 70s and still itching to work; mom still working and now doing a lot more running around taking care of my grandma); trying to figure out my own personal and career-related issues. I wish at this point I could say I was a bit wiser, but I feel like I’m doing a lot of flailing in the sense that I’m still unsure whether the life balance I’ve come to since college is the right one. I’d like to think I’m a bit more appreciative of the ‘little’ moments now — even just getting to have dinner and a drink with all of the above yesterday was a nice respite.
Ah well. At least we still have Lou Reed.
And Bowie.
I just turned 30 and feel like the last six months have been a “holy shit!” moment of sorts.
Same here. My late 20s were spent in a frantic loop of school and work, so sometimes I have a hard time accepting that I’m not 25 anymore.
It’s a weird sensation to no longer be considered young.
You are young, very young.
Thanks tt. I left home at 19, stayed away (in the army) for 20 years, didn’t get home often. I miss my dad, he died when I was 32. I had a chance to watch my mother decline and go, that was easier. I miss my dad.
I’m with you. Similar age, and I just don’t have the same energy.
I blame the kid.
Thanks for posting / sharing. My dad left us this last December. He was a near-life-long heart patient, having had a quintuple bypass in his 40s. He was 79 when he died, of a massive heart attack, trying to get the snowblower from the garage. But he had lived nearly 40 years with a cobbled-together heart. He had gotten somewhat frail in the two years before he died, then had a bad fall, which required inpatient rehab. The rehab made him better and stronger than he had been in quite awhile. It turned out my mom had been doing the stuff he’d normally done, without us knowing.
Now my main fear is for my mom, she’s doing great and in great health – takes anti-anxiety meds but nothing else, and no other concerns. She’s 78 and just only this year started keeping a food diary and/or weighing herself.
Fucking Redskins can’t win anything. Against the freaking Jets of all things! Oh the humiliation.
Re not wanting to become the patriarch: I once heard it said that a boy does not become a man until his father dies.
If it doesn’t make you a man, raising a son certainly moves you up the ladder.
If he’s Jewish, it’s not until his mom dies.
–Philip Roth
that’s heavy. it’s hard watching the man who raised you and contributed to your genetic makeup die. but also knowing the duty to keep shit stable now extends beyond your nuclear family to your fuckup siblings induces anxiety. but keep it stable we must.
One of my uncles is a total stoner. He saved some and invested, to his credit, but that’s about all he did.
The other uncle, it’s a toss-up between suicide and murder-suicide. The guy’s an angry, bitter lunatic in addition to being a fuckup.
Dad’s the patriarch by dint of taking care of grandmom into her 90s, but he’s sick to death of his brothers.
may your father outlive them.
I never knew my father; not sure what that says about me. (I wasn’t a mama’s boy either, before anyone asks.)
I would say it means you were born a man.
Well, that is correct.
Oh man man? Ha I don’t know about that.
I apologize for assuming your gender. 😛
It’s a fair assumption around here.
As I’ve seen said here before, technically correct it the best kind of correct. 😉
My parents will be 70 this year. They just went out to visit my brother in Colorado and did some 1000+ foot elevation climbs from a base of 10000. Oh, and they live in FL, so they didn’t really even acclimate before getting after it. Only difference between 70 and 35 is there was one they turned around after about a mile and a half as being too much. Mostly because it involved climbing several boulders. I have no doubt on level ground they could both walk me into the ground.
I’m not quite feeling my age yet, but I see it in my parents. I’m afraid my mother is in the early stages of dementia or Alzheimer’s. She has trouble remembering basic details and can’t keep up with conversations. She insists it’s just old age when I bring it up, but my wife (who has some expertise in the area) sees the signs too. There’s a lot of cancer on my mom’s side and my biggest fear is that it’s going to get me young. My aunt was diagnosed and passed within a one month time span at age 60.
On the other hand, my dad’s side appears bulletproof. His Dad is in his mid-90s and has survived multiple strokes. He doesn’t know who I am anymore, but we’re basically strangers anyway. Gives me hope for Dad to stay around for a long time.
I have asked my kids to watch me carefully and be perfectly honest if they see me slipping. The forgetting of things like names or places is normal until it becomes apparent the person is confused. I’ll forget a name only to remember it a few minutes later. It really annoys me to forget and not even be close, like the title of an old song, remember the lyrics, the girl I was dancing with 60 years ago but not the damned title. Then, suddenly remember the title (and then forget the girl’s name)
Oh my mom’s famous for forgetting names and places. She’d have had Alzheimer’s 30 years ago if that was the case. One example is that I was telling her a story yesterday from when I was 5 years old and she asked if her mother was still alive then. My Grandma didn’t pass until my early twenties and was a very strong part of my childhood.
Thanks for the article too! It was a great read that caused me some introspection.
Fourscore, a good and timely post. As I’m posting this, I’m at my mom’s house watching over my older brother, who is dying from oral cancer at 57. The guy lived a pretty clean life, never smoked, vegetarian. He’s on 20mg out liquid morphine every hour and 50mcg/hr of fentanyl patches. Don’t know if it is hours or days now, but I hope it is sooner than later. Fortunately, he has no wife or kids, but has a living mom who has already gone through this before with my young brother, also cancer. The one saving grace about dying from cancer, is that it lets us say our goodbyes and reiterate our much they meant to us. To all the glibs, thank you for all the posts and articles, this has become my number one site I visit.
Shit, that’s horrible. My brother in law was a health nut and was diagnosed with bone cancer at 55. He made it 6 more years but the last year was very rough; the first 5 were more mental anguish than physical, which is its own brand of rough.
My nephew and godson died at 33 from colon cancer. Left a 3 year and 9 month year old (then). Cancer sucks.
FUCK CANCER watched my mil fight and lose to that.
That is a heart braking story. I babysat my older brother a little before the cirrhosis got him. He was the big brother we all need, taught me a lot, missed a couple lessons. He was married 4 times, me only 2. Sorry to hear about your brother, way, way to young. My best to you and your mom.
Fuck cancer. I’m glad you got to say your good-byes. It doesn’t make the going easier.
I’m so sorry. That’s just terrible for everyone involved. I’m glad you can be with your brother. One of my regrets is that I lived across the country when my younger brother was going through cancer treatment, and then died at 42.
I am so sorry.
I got to live with my grandparents on their farm before they both took a turn for the worse. It was truly a blessing. I learned a lot about humility and hard work that year.
My grandfather’s favorite joke:
Being a cattleman is like a dog screwing a skunk. He likes it he just doesn’t know how long he can stand it.
I miss him
This post is way too depressing.
http://archive.is/3H7Er
Have some boobs!
There are some things we never forget. When you’ve lost boobs then it is time to say good night
This horrific racist song just came on.
I’m traumatized. When will Randy Newman be brought before the People’s Tribunal and made to confess his sins?
Randy Newman’s best work.
I thought this was it.
I am 52, 5′ 7″, underemployed, and this close [holds thumb and fore finger close together] to closing g the deal on a 24 year old 5′ 8″, 135 lbs., (IMHO) solid 7/10. My intent is marriage and many Bunz in the Oven.
If I go to the gym semi regularly. My paternal male side all lived in to thier 90s…so said my dad who died from thymua cancer. (That he probably got when he was X-rayed to Oblivion from a childhood collapsed lung…. At least that is what I tell myself)
Barring getting hit by a truck or stuck reading Sugaefree novels, I don’t intend on dying. Fuck you death. I figure if I can live to 80. Technology will give me even more time.
I lost my law practice, been on the street homeless, and underemployed since 2008. Bit I am too pig headed to give up. Fuck you death.
I
This I like.
That is a fabulous post.
mmmm…not so sure. That’s so young she hasn’t figured out the whole is I is or is I ain’t a gonna have babies things.
Conversely, she hasn’t had time to run up six figures in credit card debt.
On the ego scale, at today’s math, it will be fairly tough for you to trade in for a newer model.
Hey, it isn’t my fault that the vast majority of men under 35 are fucking pussies.
When does the old man smell start to set in?
Post 80 plus 1.
I hear that douche Strzok finally got fired?
Yep, it’s now official
Yup. The FBI office of professional responsibility wanted to go easy on him, but got overridden by a higher-up.
The guy was such a dumpster fire of incompetence and arrogance, even if you leave out the whole political motivation thing, that I can only assume that the FBI has no problem with agents who are dumpster fires of incompetence and arrogance. He should have been fired for fucking the DOJ lawyer; it was a straight-up policy violation. I can think of two (2) senior executives who were fired for personal relationships that interfered with their work by creating the appearance of conflicts of interest and favoritism.
He should have been fired for that smirk alone.
Here is my shocked face that it was the office of professional responsibility that went light on easy on him What the fuck do you have to do? Strangle a puppy on live TV?
Isn’t he the only witness to Michael Flynn’s “crime”?
Or was that McCabe? I can’t keep track of our crooked G-Men.
Great article, and thank you – I entered the last year of my forties a few days ago, and although I am barely feeling my age (arms getting too short for the book), I am definitely seeing it in the mirror, and not liking it one bit.
Danny Thompson, 69, sets land speed record in dads 50 year-old car.
Awesome!
That’s a really cool story. 450mph! Damn.
5000hp
How the hell do you steer out of a slide at 430 mph?
With grace and panache.
See, I would have gone with “white-knuckled and screaming profanity”.
On the off chance that Fourscore checks this long dead thread.
Here’s some motivation for you (and the rest of us)
Thanks Mike,
I did a 4 mile walk this morning on a treadmill. Takes an hour. This afternoon I have to cut grass but that’s riding the mower.
Take care