Aging – Page 65 – Auxiliary Memory

Rejuvenation Delusions–Searching for the Fountain of Youth

This is one of those essays I occasionally write that get no hits. Usually I don’t even publish them to the blog. It’s a Sunday night and I’m tired. I write this trying to capture how I feel, which is old, but how does one put that into words? When I was young and met old people trying to recapture their youth I thought they were pathetic. I knew they wanted young bodies and youthful vitality, but I didn’t know how it felt to have an old body or what it meant to be old. I heartlessly felt no empathy for them, and now the chickens have come home to roost.

My two days of freedom from work are about over, and I feel depressed that I have only three hours to accomplished something but I’m too tired to do anything other than to write this. I saw two tragic romantic movies this weekend, Anna Karenina and The Royal Affair – so I think I’ve overdosed on watching beautiful people leading passionate young lives, which makes me feel even older and more worn out than I actually am.

But you know what the weird thing is? My mind is just as ambitious as ever. The pain in my back and legs grows as I stand or walk, and I’m only good for about ten minutes of activity, but I daydream of hiking the Appalachian Trail. My dick has reached those hilarious ED years but it still has an ambitious role in my idle thoughts, sort of like daydreaming what you’d do if you won the $500 million dollar lottery. In other words, why should I think critically of people looking for the fountain of youth at the end of a plastic surgeon’s scalpel. Nor should I think “dinosaur rock” when I see that The Rolling Stones and The Who touring again.

Like George Bernard Shaw said, “Youth is wasted on the young,” because you REALLY don’t know what the hell he meant until you get old.

That’s the vexing thing about life, we all keep trying to be young way beyond our youth. None of us want to just give up and die. I’m reminded of a Vaughn Bode underground comic I read back in the 1970s, about a little cartoon creature that had been captured by an enemy who cut off his arms and legs, poked out his eyes, and left him in a dungeon. In the final panel the little disfigured cartoon creature whispered to his fellow prisoner, “I’m going to escape when they go to sleep.” In other words, we don’t give up no matter how pathetic and wrinkled we get. Just pass the Viagra, Botox and amphetamines – we’re all Joe Gideon from All That Jazz until our hearts blow a gasket.

Now, is that pathetic or heroic?

You know what though? I’m pretty sure I’ve written this all before, maybe even using the same words, quotes and similes, but my old fucking mind thinks its new. Ha-ha. Maybe we lose our memories so won’t just give up in frustration!

I still can’t capture in words what it means to feel old but think young, other than to say, “Tomorrow I’m going to buy an electric guitar and become another 1965 Bob Dylan,” or maybe I’ll join NASA and convince them geezers belong on Mars. Or maybe I’ll just write a book about a 61-year-old ex-astronaut who buys an electric guitar to become a rock star.

I never did like that crazy witch Scarlett O’Hara, but she did have it right, “Tomorrow is another day.”

[Wow, I still have 90 minutes of weekend freedom to do something still.]

JWH – 12/9/12

The Circle of Life–Coming Back to Where We Started

My sister Becky once remarked that we started off life living pretty much in one room, and then we spread into several rooms as we become toddlers, and then out of the house as we become kids, then off to school to find our group friends, and slowly we travel further and further from home, making more and more friends, but then as we get older, we travel less, and we start having fewer friends, and then we start staying in our house all the time, and finally we end up in one room again.

If you live long enough you end up back in a crib with people changing your diapers.

My friend Peggy has started hanging out with other people in their sixties, at a dance club that’s a lot like a high school hangout. Her friends have created a new subculture around old tunes and dances they learned in their teens.

Many older people I know have begun reconnecting with childhood friends and schoolmates through Facebook. We have an urge to return to friendship groups like we had in K-12.

Nostalgia means returning home. I’ve reached an age when my peers look backwards.

I’ve also noticed something else about getting older – people want less from life. Back in high school and college we all had such big ambitions about what we wanted to do when we grew up. Now we want less and less. We want to retire. We often return to the hobbies we loved while growing up.

I’m reading books and watching television with the same passion I had in junior high. And my passion for new music is much like I felt for music in the 1960s. I listen to it alone in my room just like I did in 1965, and find the same immense pleasure I once did. Somehow I didn’t pass back through the phase of listening in groups of friends getting stoned.

I do feel somewhat different from other friends my own age – I like new music, and they dwell on the oldies, or stuff that sounds like it could have been on the charts in 1961-1969. I know this will sound sacrilegious, but listening to The Killers at the moment is more meaningful than replaying The Buffalo Springfield. I don’t think none of us are the same, or can become who we were, but so many of us are swimming towards the past like lemmings.

My older friends divide into two distinct groups: those with children and those without. The ones with children and grand children follow a different circle of life than those childless. When I talk to friends with children, our conversations often remind me of talking to my parents and grandparents. Talking to my friends without kids, often feels like we’re still back in tenth grade.

My wife Susan, and some of my other lady friends have gotten into watching TV shows from the 1950s and 1960s again. I think we all are drawn to different aspects of the past we loved so dearly. Or does watching old shows just recreate old feelings?

In my book clubs, we often talk about our favorite books, movies and TV shows from childhood. All of us Baby boomers have commonality even though we’re all extremely different. We will relive the 1960s one day at a time, each a 50th anniversary.

And getting old means becoming weak again like a child. I can no longer lift and do things I once did. Eventually we’ll get too old to drive, and finally we’ll get too old to even take care of ourselves. Dementia and Alzheimer’s is like evolving mentally backwards.

Even sex seems to diminish, like we’re returning to a kind of re-virginal state.

It’s also hard to befriend people in a different part of the circle of life. When we’re kids we play with other kids, when we’re teens, we hang out in gangs of teenagers, when we move away from home, we hang out with other single people, when we get married we hang out with other married people, when we have kids, we hang out with other people with kids.

I’m not old yet, but I already feel the urge to fly south to live in a 55 Plus community.

Should I fight this urge? Or should I just go with the flow? Do I have a choice?

If you’re around my age, 60, are you feeling this too?

JWH – 10/8/12

What 12 Lessons About Life Would You Teach Your Younger Self If You Had A Time Machine?

Nobody likes taking advice from other people.

What if you could get advice from an older, wiser version of yourself? Would you take it? What if you had a time machine and could travel back to visit your younger self and spend one day to help him or her prepare for the future? Would your younger self listen and learn?

What advice would you give you? How would you be convincing. What proof could you bring?

There are two ways to approach this problem. First, you could teach yourself how to get more of what you wanted in this life with hindsight, or you could convince yourself that you should be a totally different person, a better person. If you collected rare baseball cards you could tell yourself how to get the rarest ones for your future self. Or, you could tell your younger self, don’t waste a lifetime on collecting baseball cards, just play a lot of baseball.

As much as I’ve enjoyed my life, as much as I love my wife and friends, I have never been the person I wanted to be because of introverted habits and laziness. I would go back and try to convince my younger self to become a different person knowing full well it would erase me and my current life.

If you had a time machine and could spend a day with a younger self, what age would you target? Why? What would you say?

I’d go back to 1964 when I turned 13, when I understood science fiction. I think Jim-13 could understand Jim-60 and time travel.

Here’s what I’d try to teach Jim-13.

Give up my addiction to science fiction. I have a life-long addiction to fantasy that I overindulge with books, television and movies. I’d work very hard to convince my younger self to never look at television again, and to promise to read no more than one novel a month. I’d try to convince him to read more non-fiction and classics. I’d tell him when he did read SF, to find and read the very best science fiction, but no more than four SF books a year. I’d try to convince him to seek out SF books that taught him more about reality and not use science fiction to escape reality.
Study science and mathematics. I wouldn’t try to help my younger self get rich by telling him to buy key stocks, or which horses or football teams to bet on. I’d try to teach him that the key to a good life is working hard at something you love and that being a scientist is probably the best way to spend a lifetime.
Give up junk food, eat healthy, and exercise. I was an active kid, and skinny until after I got married, but I have an addictive personality and I ate lots of junk food. Seeing Jim-60 weighing 234 pounds would probably be pretty convincing evidence.
Don’t get involved with drugs. Hey, I grew up in the 1960s, so that will be a hard lesson to teach. I might tell him to experiment under certain social conditions, but convince Jim-13 that drugs will waste a lot of time and money.
Pay more attention to other people. I’ve always been introverted, self-centered and egocentric. I’d try to convince Jim-13 that getting out of his head and focusing on what’s going on in other people’s heads will lead to more social success and a richer life.
Warn him about sex. Hey, he’s 13. I’d try to convince him that all those gazillion hours of sex fantasies won’t get him laid. I’d try to teach him not to think about what he wanted but learn to observe women and study what they wanted. I’d tell him, yes, all the girls have pussies, but the organ you really want to lust after is brains. I’d tell him to learn to dance.
Take good notes. I’d try very hard to teach Jim-13 to keep a journal, studying the art of writing as deeply as possible, learn to draw and sketch, and take one photo a day.
Find ways to make money and save it. I’d teach him working provides social contacts and access to mentors, and that saving money will mean freedom to do more. I tell him that easy money from time travel tips is wrong and a waste of time.
Finish school as fast as possible and get into college as soon as you can. I’d convince Jim-13 that it’s very important to become independent as soon as possible and college is one way to do that. Try to get in by 16.
Move in with your grandmother. My parents were alcoholics and at age 13 I was about to go through some very bad years. If I could have gotten away from them it really would have helped me tremendously. And my grandmother managed an apartment building in her old age, and could have used the help. If I could have grown up living in one place and had a stable life for junior high and high school I would have been a much different person. I’d tell my younger self to not leave Miami until after college – to even get into the University of Miami for college. Maybe even study marine biology. I’d also advise him to leave for grad school and to study physics or astronomy then.
Find mentors. I think the key to success is to start work young and find mentors that can help you understand the game in any situation.
Learn to focus and work hard. I’d tell Jim-13 to push himself to work a little harder at his favorite projects each day. To learned to focus his concentration a little harder on every task each day. If you can spend 30 minutes focused on learning calculus one day, try for 31 the next. If you can grind on a telescope mirror for 2 hours on one day, try for 2 hours and 5 minutes the next. If you can run four miles one day, try for 4.1 the next. Just keep pushing your body and mind to go further.

I know this is a fantasy and time travel isn’t possible. But playing this little thought experiment is very educational. I can always pretend its advice for Jim-13 from Jim-60, but it could be advice for Jim-80 to me at this moment.

But if this little fantasy was possible it would have played out different than what I wanted.

Convincing my younger self of all of this would be hard. If I could print out all my blog posts into a book, I give him that. I might bring an iPad to show him how far out technology gets. I might bring him the book Replay by Ken Grimwood. I might bring him a photo album of my life.

I was a bullheaded kid, so I’m not sure I could have convinced him of anything.

I’m pretty sure he would have demanded that Jim-60 stay in 1964 so he, Jim-13 could return in the time machine to 2012.

I would have agreed.

JWH – 8/4/12

Is Cynicism a Side-Effect of Aging? – The Mark Twain Syndrome

Samuel Clemens, known famously as Mark Twain, became extremely bitter and pessimistic about the human race as he got older. I’m 60 and I’m starting to feel I’ve caught a touch of pessimism myself, so I’m wondering if I’m developing the Mark Twain Syndrome? And will I get more negative as the years pile up?

Is cynicism a side-effect of aging?

Now Twain had a lot of reasons to feel depressed and bitter. His wife, and two of his three daughters, died before he did. He made fortunes and lost them. He ran up staggering debt. In his old age he had to constantly tour the world giving talks so he could honorably pay off his creditors. Plus he saw a lot of the world that he just didn’t like, and he felt he had good reasons to think humans were a nasty species. Twain died in 1910, so he never knew the horrors of the 20th century, but the vicious satirical stories he wrote in his later years feel spot on to modern readers.

I would think anyone following the highly polarized politics of the 2012 presidential election would feel depressed about our political system. I would think anyone studying how humans treat the environment and our fellow creatures would feel gloomy about the Earth. I would think anyone comparing the growing greed of the rich versus the expanding misery of the poor would feel doomed over the fate of mankind. It’s hard not to believe that homo sapiens aren’t going to use up every last resource on this planet and never feel guilty.

How can you have faith in Congress when the national debt grows and all they can talk about is tax cuts? How can feel good about America when one party stonewalls the other for four years in hopes of winning the next election? When did serving the party become more important than serving the country?

Our current economic calamity is due to a man-made economic catastrophe. Billions were stolen but no one was ever put on trial. And the rich are spending billions to get a President in office so they can go back to business as usual.

I can’t help but believe that a perfect storm of national collapse is brewing. Is the U.S. in decline like the Roman and British empires were long ago?

Here some of the factors:

Growing economic chaos
World-wide shift to fundamental religious thinking
Global warming
Diseases becoming immune to our medicines
Population growth
Dwindling resources
Relentless pollution
Accelerating species extinctions
Uncontrolled debt
Political polarization
Aging population
Growing segment of population that’s not in labor force
Escalating crime and corruption around the world
Rising healthcare costs
Rising food costs

Now, do I dwell on all of that because I’m getting older? If I was young would I feel that all of those issues were just problems to be easily solved? I don’t know. It’s not like I want to walk around with a sandwich sign proclaiming “The End is Near” but I feel like I’m on a fast train and the brakes just went out. Is that feeling caused by getting older?

How do you know when things are bad or when you’re just feeling bad and think civilization is in decline?

Conversely, when I read about developments in science, technology, medicine, I feel positive and my thoughts about the future are uplifted. Science is the one constant positive – but most people reject science. What makes me feel good makes other people feel bad.

When I was young and read about Mark Twain I hoped I’d never become bitter and negative like he did. Even now I try to stay positive. But its not easy. Oh, if I keep busy and ignore the problems I’m as happy as a two-year-old with a box of cookies. And I tend to think that’s how most folks handles the problem–they eat more cookies.

When I was young, growing up with the Mercury, Gemini and Apollo space programs, I assumed we’d have permanent bases on the Moon and Mars by now, and men and women would have explored the entire solar system. In my teens, I felt before I died engineers would be drawing up plans interstellar spacecraft. Maybe not manned ones, but at least for interstellar robotic explorers. I think part of my disappointed about getting old is none of this has happened.

I’ve read enough history to know that the present has always been on the tipping point of chaos. I should feel confident that we’ll continue to bumble though. But I’ve also read enough history to know that nations rise and fall, and that all over the globe there are sites where people live who think about their country’s former glory. We revel is the decline of communism, but who is to say capitalism will last? Personally, I think free market capitalism will fail under overpopulation. We have over 12 million people defined as unemployed, but we have over 87 million people not employed, or considered unemployable. This population is over 16, not in jail or in military service that doesn’t work. They are retired, mentally or physically can’t work, gave up trying to find work, or won’t work. Less than half the U.S. population has jobs and they must fund the living expenses for the entire population. Capitalism isn’t creating enough jobs. It’s worse in other countries.

And the people who are working and paying taxes want to pay less. This is at a time when our economy depends on socialism. The reality is the U.S. has been a socialistic country since the 1930s. To reject socialism now means condemning tens of millions of poverty. The growing nostalgia for fundamental religious beliefs and conservative values is no solution at all. It’s just a plea, “Stop the world I want to get off—why can’t things be the way they used to be?”

Now I’m dwelling on the bad again. Are my worries just from getting old? Or do we all have something to be depressed about?

JWH – 7/15/12

Damn, I’m Out of Shape!!!

I went swimming today, the first time in probably a quarter of a century. It was an eye opening experience. If I fell off a boat without a life preserver I’d be dead in 2 minutes, maybe even 1 minute. I was never a good swimmer, nor could tread water well, but I had the stamina to struggle along for maybe 50 yards. I could have put up a good fight. At 60 and weighing 232 pounds I’d just go under immediately in open water and not come up.

When I was first married, and we lived at an apartment with a pool, I weighed 155 pounds and could run for miles. I thought before I got in the pool today that fat floated. Boy was I wrong. My fat don’t float! I sink.

For years people have been telling me to take up swimming to help my back. I’ve always said no because swimming is inconvenient. But my neighbor, who has a pool, has been urging me to use her pool, so this morning I gave it a try. I jumped in off the ladder at the deep end and immediately discovered my lack of buoyancy. It was a struggle to get back to the surface.

At first I thought her pool too small to do laps, but then I tried to do a lap, on the short length, which can’t be more than 20-25 feet. I made it, using my flailing doggie paddle style, but I had to grab on the edge of the pool and catch my breath after just the first crossing.

I did some experiments trying to hold my breath under water using the stop-watch feature of my Casio. At first I could only go 8 seconds. Eventually I worked up to 13. That’s pitiful. I guess that’s a sign of getting old. When I was young it wasn’t much trouble to hold my breath under water for 60 seconds or more.

I stuck with doing laps and I went back and forth maybe 10 times, either doggie paddling, or some kind of crude breast stroke. I tried the normal crawl one time but I just don’t have that kind of coordination.

I’m not completely out of shape. After swimming I did 20 minutes of physical therapy and then 10 minutes of Bowflex. But it’s obvious that being overweight and 60 that I’m at a lifetime low point when it comes to stamina. Before my back got bad I did stair walking at work and could do 20-24 floors on my break. I can ride my bike for 30-45 minutes now, but I’ve discovered that unless I’m riding uphill, bikes are so efficient that it’s not much exercise.

It so weird watching my body decline, because mentally I feel like I did when I was 19.

So far I’ve lost 6 pounds on my diet. I do believe if I worked hard I could regain some of my stamina – but will I? I’ve discovered in recent years I’ve adapted to a very sedentary lifestyle. My back limits my activities, especially standing or walking, so I’ve just accepted doing less. I think I need to get an exercise bike to push myself. Sitting on a bike, leaning forward on the handlebars, doesn’t hurt my back. Swimming, or more precisely, trying to swim, didn’t seem to hurt my back either. So I’ll keep it up. At least in warm weather.

On one hand I feel like just accepting getting old and doing less, on the other hand I believe I should fight the inevitable. I see all these natural catastrophes on TV and how old people need so much help just to run away from danger. I don’t want to be like that. I see news reports of people rushing to rescue stuff in their homes before fires engulf them. With my stamina I couldn’t rescue much. And living in an emergency shelter would be very hard on me. I’ve gotten old and soft and addicted to creature comforts, the crutch of modern air conditioned living.

I wouldn’t be much of a survivor in a post-apocalyptic world.

I’ve become an animal highly adapted to a very specific environment. I’ve developed a routine where I expend very little energy to survive. But what will life be like at 70? Or 80? I would ask about 90, but I just can’t imagine my declining stamina letting me live to 90. But I see 90 year-old people all the time – but most of them move very little.

Do I ride the current slope of my declining stamina, or do I made a big effort and bend that declining slope into a rising one? Could I regain the stamina I had at 50 or 40? That might be dreaming, but I do know people my age that are many times more active than I am. However, I think they’ve always been many times more active than I was.

I’ll keep you posted. I need some way of measuring progress though. Have to think about that. Are there standardized tests for stamina?

JWH – 6/30/12