RESOLUTIONS the 2024 VERSION

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#1. ACT MY AGE. I'm pretty sure that when we hear this phrase we usually assume that the person is acting immaturely or pretending to be younger than they are. For me, with this resolution, I'm shooting for not acting older than I am. In a few days I'll be 73. When I have aches and pains, when I walk into a room and can't remember why, when my first instinct is to complain, I'll try to remember that I'm not 74 or more.

I'm not sure when the switch flipped for me--the change from a borderline Peter Pan Syndrome kind of guy to the stereotypical cranky curmudgeon. The point is I'm not sure I am, ever have been, or ever will be, self-aware enough to find reality, but if I ever do I'm going to get a firm grip on it. (If I like what I see that is. If not, I'll make something up,)

#2. MAKE A NEW FRIEND. Can we all agree that friendship is on a scale sort of like air temperature and humidity? There are those friendships that are long and intimate. There are those that if we met on the street we would recognize each other and maybe reminisce about shared experiences. I heard a radio program recently about the decline in friendships among men. There was a lot of speculation and presciptions, but the one thing that seemed to be true was that you have to make the effort. Friendships, like all relationships, seem to need some nurture, care and effort. Is this resolution worthy of being a resolution? For me it is, not because I don't value friendships, I'm just so strongly introverted (not shy) that friending is a challenge.

What am I looking for in a friend besides possible future pall bearer material? I suppose if I were posting something in a publication or app designed for friend-finding my list might look something like this:

  • Good storyteller with good stories to tell.

  • Has more than a passing interest in some form of the arts.

  • Able to talk for more than an hour without getting into current politics. (Unless you agree with my worldview of course.)

  • Has at some point in their past owned a turntable and a collection of albums that included at least two of the following:

The Beatles
Miles Davis
Blood Sweat and Tears
Bob Dylan
Crosby, Stills, and Nash, and/or Neil Young or The Byrds or Buffalo Springfield or The Kinks
Marvin Gaye
The Beach Boys
Led Zeppelin
Eva Cassidy

  • Has at some point shot a few rolls of B&W film.

  • Regularly asks to see photos of my Grand Kids.

  • Doesn't complain about the cost of the cup of coffee we're visiting over.

  • Is near equal parts excited and afraid of AI.

And that's pretty much it.

#3. DEFY THE MAGNETIC PULL OF LETHARGY. In all areas. Intellectually. Spiritually. Emotionally. Socially. Physically. Of course each of those are in the fabric of all of us and impact the other in a Newtonian way. Picture that little pendulum thing with the line up of steel balls hanging in a perfect row. Pull one back let it go and somehow the energy--both kinetic and potential--unleashed, transfers through each and sends the last in line swinging. I'm glad. Sometimes that first ball may be the Spiritual one. When I pull it back it impacts all the others, hopefully making me a better friend, steward, husband, dad and Pops.

I'm a full year into retirement now. We've done some traveling. We've been to basketball games, piano recitals, dance recitals, gymnastics meets, school programs, a wonderful vacation with all the kids. So far, so good. I had a friend named Grady Nutt who wrote a book where he turned that little phrase around and used it for the title, "So Good, So Far". I would rather use that version to describe this year. I had another friend named Gladys Lewis. She titled one of her books, "On Earth As It Is", obviously borrowing just enough of a phrase from the Lord's Prayer to invite us to take a realist view of life.

In that spirit, in this retirement thing, there's still been a lot of time that I haven't really known what to do with. That's fine with me. I can always read or write, listen to great music, watch an old movie, or take a nap. I start the day with peanut butter and strawberry spread, coffee and puzzles. Then I move to my little den with a second cup of coffee and read the New York Times online along with a few of my favorite writers. Often there will something there that will push me into a rabbit hole, clicking links, watching YouTube. Then, before you know it, it's time to ask My Amazing Missus, "What sounds good for lunch?" carefully avoiding a stupid question like, "What are you fixing for lunch?"

Back in the days leading up to retirement she would tell people that when I retired she planned to retire from cooking. I have actually done a good bit of that. I like to find a new recipe or spice up an old favorite.

Still. There are times when I'm like a lazy old dog just lying in the way. When my Apple Watch buzzs and tells me it's time to stand up and move around, I usually do. I meander around the house. Sometimes I'll stand in the doorway of her sewing room and ask her how it's going. For the first time in 50 years, we're here, together. I'm loving it. But I've crashed on her couch so to speak, and I'm here to stay.

Our taste in TV programming doesn't overlap much. The other day she came in and asked, "What in the world are you watching?" I explained that I was now eight episodes into something the kids call "Gilmore girls". I told her I was discovering much to my skepticism that it is some of the best writing of any series I remember. "Sit down and I'll start at the beginning." For a week now we've been watching a few episodes each night. Last night we watched Season 2, Episode 14, the one where Richard, the husband, father and grandfather to the Gilmore girls has just retired. Emily, the mother, is telling Lorelai, the daughter, how it's going so far.

"We've never really been home at the same time. He's always here. Watching me, and noticing when I move a vase."

My Amazing-Missus laughed too hard and too knowingly at that. I think I may have heard her whisper, "Amen, sister."

Later in the episode, after Richard has made himself a nuisance to each of the Gilmore girls, Lorilei, his daughter tells him to back off; he says,

"You know I never thought about retirement. I never thought about what I'd do or what I'd be once I wasn't working. I never once thought that I would go from being a productive member of the human race to a decrepit old drone sitting at the club at 3:00 PM drinking brandy and playing cards. I'm an annoyance to my wife and a burden to my daughter. Suddenly I realize what it feels like to be obsolete. I hope that you never have to learn what that feels like."

Here's my plan: when someone asks me what I'm doing in retirement I'm going to tell them that I'm defying lethargy. I'm gaining energy--both potential and kinetic: In all areas. Intellectually. Spiritually. Emotionally. Socially. Physically. Then I will quote Whitman, and that should end the discussion.

O Me! O Life!
Walt Whitman
1819 – 1892

O Me! O life! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,

The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?

Answer.

That you are here—that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.