Not Old Man Shakespeare's Classic Ages of Man

Too much time on my hands leads to too much time spent ruminating, especially the shoulda/woulda/coulda things of life that, at the time, didn't seem like a big deal, but grew in importance during the aging process.

Specifically, I've been thinking about the exuberance of youth, the absolute confidence that I will ... become someone/something grand, important, significant. The totally idealistic enthusiasm children have is often tarnished by well-meaning adults who provide far too many reality checks based on their own lives, rather than urging the young ones to soar beyond what any of "us" experienced during our lives. Of course we cannot allow children to run the streets without supervision and boundaries, but too much structure provides constraints, rather than constructing a ladder that can reach the stars.

The teen years are filled with expectations, many of which are unreasonable and most of which are totally self-serving and egocentric, especially when the generation gap between the expectations of I'm going to and the resignation of the elderly is the grand canyon gap of 50 years, the difference between the Wright Brothers and space flight! I'd rather have cocky teens who are confident of the mark they will make than timid teens who are afraid to crawl out the window after lights out. If you never push the boundaries, how do you know how to go where no one has ever gone before and become someone and/or do something that changes the world?

In the 20s and 30s, there is optimism supporting the major life changes we all face, one way or another: marriage, birthing children, carving out a career, realizing that life is not the piece of cake you once thought it was, or actualizing innate ability and making your own personal dreams come true. Someone had to make sense out of that pile of electronic pieces in the garage, and someone else still has their own pile of pieces to put together that will take us all to the next level. There's still time to dream, time to make it happen, and time to try again in the 20s and the 30s, especially since this is the age group that has decided to stay young forever.

In the 40s and 50s is the acceptance that the clock is ticking faster, that time is marching on whether I'm in step or marching to my own beat. Some of the things I wanted to do, the places I wanted to see, and the people I wanted to meet took another path, and my life is a forest of missed opportunities. Of course, on the other hand, the paths I walked have, for the most part, been rich and rewarding or amazing and interesting -- including the life lessons we all experience first-hand and figure out how to handle all by our lonesomes. It is during this time that our parents leave our lives, our children step away from us to make their own lives, and we stand in front of the bathroom mirror and see our parent's face staring back at us.

In the 60s sets in the resignation of the elderly, who quickly learn that no one listens to old people, no one wants to spend time with old people, and spending day after day with other old people confirms the why of those decisions. Driving a car is no longer an adventure, but an accident waiting to happen, especially when one has traveled from 2-lane country roads to 8-lane freeways, and speeds have gone from 45 flyin' mph to 85 get the hell out of my way mph. Each day becomes a challenge of remember when, accompanied by a whole litany of I used to, and thank god the dog is a good listener.

My mom always said that you cannot put an old head onto young shoulders, indicating that the wisdom of the elderly could temper the exuberance of the youth, provide a reality check for the expectations, temper the frustrations of acceptance, and hold at bay the resignation of the elderly who feel as if life has either passed them by completely, or disappointed them in its outcome. I now realize that there is much to be gained by providing historical lessons, but today's generations are too busy texting, tweeting, and I-Ming to have the time to listen. They will get their lessons the old-fashioned way, from the school of hard knocks, the same way we all did, back before we became the old folks determined to teach the young ones some of life's truths and save them from the mistakes we made when we were their age. We cannot save anyone from learning life's lessons one at a time, so quit trying!

On this fine day, with a "sudden drop" in the temps from 113 yesterday to a mere 109 today, and the air conditioning cranking at least half of the total hours each day just to keep the inside of the house bearable, and the last of the injections of filler inside my knee, I find myself wanting to revisit a whole lot of shoulda/woulda/coulda opportunities that I didn't hear knocking. I want to go places, do things, and be with people, rather than taking care of my house, my pets, and my possessions.

I'm tired of being the responsible person, the one who does it all because there is no one else to do it for me. I'd love to have someone else remember that Wednesday is garbage day -- and take the cans to the curb; to have someone else groan at the realization that it's been 2 weeks since the last big doggie doo pick-up in the dog run; to have someone else clean the damned car, inside and out, because that is one of the physical activities that really torques my spinal column (as well as both vacuuming and mopping); to wash an occasional load of clothes, fold them, and put them away. But the choices I made back then led to my life today, so I live with knowing that I did what I had to do back then, even though it sucks to live with it in the here and now.

Today is one of those days that I'd like to lock the doors, drive away, and come back another day. My destination: a walk along the beach, a lingering dinner in a nice restaurant (rather than fast-food), and a really good night's sleep topped off with someone else figuring out breakfast. When I was younger, I did that, but for some reason, I'm just not as confident today as I was yesterday that it's a good idea, much less that I can make it happen.

Do I hear a chorus of "I love to go a-wandering, along the mountain track, and as I go I love to sing my knapsack on my back. Val-der-ee, val-der-rah, val-der-ee, val-der-rah, ha ha ha ha ha ha, val-der-ee, val-der-rah my knapsack on my back!!" Perhaps I'll load up my knapsack and see what happens ...