Random Thoughts About Getting Old

By Roy Ortega

Things that used to matter to me don't seem to matter as much anymore. Some things don't matter at all. For example, I am no longer interested in fighting off the ravages of old age. I'm here. I'm old. Come get me, old age. I'm yours.   

Don't freak out. This is not a cry for a mental health intervention. I'm genuinely mulling over a legitimate question.  Once you get to a certain age, you enter into the valley of diminishing returns; The more time, emotion and hard work you put into something, the less meaning you get back from it. It doesn't matter what you do, certain facts will engulf you. You will get sick. You will become far less important to the world around you.  At this point, you are forced to choose one of two paths; Accept old age happily or spend your remaining years fretting uselessly about it. 

I'd Rather Be a Pleasurable Old Gent Than a Bitter Old Curmudgeon

Sure, everyone wants to live longer. But old age is not for the weak-minded. 

If I ate nothing but quinoa salads and drank vitalized bottled water, I will still die right on time like every other male in America my age. The average life span of a male in America is 75. I'm 73 this year. 

The social implications of being an old man are clear. Mainly, you develop plenty of reasons to be pissed off about everything. Your opinion doesn't matter much anymore. Every decision is a negotiation that you always lose.  It's a daily fight to remain relevant. Why even bother?

Harder workouts at the gym won't extend your life by any more than a few minutes at best. So why bust your ass at the rec center? In my case, I work out at the rec center three times a week not because I want to live longer but because it feels good. That's my point. Live life to be happy. 

I worked hard all of my life to make sure my olden years would be comfortable. They are. I have everything I need and want. I have no money issues. No mortgage. No major worries. My wife and I live far better than probably 80-percent of the people in this country. 

Don't Worry, Be Happy

A close relative is two years younger than me and spends most of his time worrying obsessively about his health and appearance. Me, on the other hand, I do everything possible to wreck my health. I eat what I want, and I drink what I want. A little good sipping bourbon is one of my few remaining joys. I wake up most mornings with purpose, pride and positive energy. But here's the rub: He and I will get to the finish line pretty much at the same time. Guaranteed. 

Don't get me wrong. I pay close attention to my health and my living habits. But I have stopped worrying about what's ahead in life because I know exactly where I'm headed. I plan to stay happy on the way there.

I may be reached at rortega54@elp.rr.com. Your thoughts are always welcome.