White Male In His Sixties
My youngest brother, who turned 50 this year, called me Wednesday and said, “Old man, we’re getting to the age where you might have to start changing my diapers again!”
As many of you know, I passed one of those auspicious “0″ birthdays on Wednesday (or as KathyR called it, “uh-oh”). I made a little run at developing something lofty and philosophical to blurt here, but just couldn’t get that worked up. Not that it doesn’t affect me at all, and that I blithely cruised through the week; the sound of “in his 60s”, while not profound in the sense that “dying of cancer” or “symptoms of Alzheimer’s” would be, nevertheless has implications for my self-image.
And maybe that’s it: that I’m simply sort of ashamed of turning 60, in a way that I wasn’t at turning 50. At 50, I rented the back of a restaurant and invited most of the people that I knew or had known, defiant and devil-may-care. This week, it’s more a feeling like I’ve screwed up and gotten fired from my 50s, and I’m trying to hide it from the neighbors.
I’m just musing here, not looking for sympathy, just screwing around with words. I’m healthy, happy, reasonably secure. I’m engaged all of a sudden in new ventures (adult band and the rental house). I could lose a few pounds. All in all, though, I think I miss last summer more intensely than I miss six decades.
Thanks to all of you in my life who helped get me here.
Not a single teenage date, or a red sportscar, or dirt biking in the Mojave?
Not bad!
T.
Happy Birthday! We’ll do our best to keep you gainfully employed and distracted from the afflictions of aging.
Keith
Aw, he’s fakin’ it, trying to get all those AARP discounts early! NOBODY thinks you look the age you claim to be, and you have more energy than people half your age.
We love ya, kid!
60 is not so bad. I watched Roger do that over seven years ago, and he made it look incredibly easy. There is something about admitting that we’re no longer middle-aged though (unless I live to be 114, hey it could happen!). And if we’re not middle-aged, what are we? I think the boomers don’t have a word yet that describes the liminal stage between middle-aged and senior citizen. Maybe we could think of one…
Hope you had a great birthday.
Teresa - it was a business trip, I swear!
Keith - gracias, as always
Beatriz - OK, OK, go ahead and buy the mink!
Robin - How about “medieval”?
big zero happy b’day.
seriously now, man up dude (to overuse current cliches). 60 is the new 50. claim it! we are on a roll here. geezers unite. we have nothing to lose but stereotypes.
Geezers is a fantastic term to replace middle-aged with. Not sure it works so well for the women. I don’t particularly want to grow up to be a geezer. I am looking forward to eccentric, which I think one can adopt post-50, or even Grumpy Old Woman (a la the BBC show).
Good to see you setting the way in positive thinking Phil. I;m not all that far behind you and need some role models like you! I like the way you think.
I’ve long claimed the title of Geezer, though I’m a few years behind you. To me, a Geezer is one who has attained adequate age and eccentricity. I’m there. I know your birthday was happy, despite your implicit protestations to the contrary.
I had no trouble at all with 50, but was far less sanguine about 60. For me the main thing is that a lot, perhaps the majority even, of my friends are younger than I am — some of my best friends are the ages of my own children. To those “kids” in their 30’s, 50-ish seems at least within their sphere of comprehension. But conversations involving “60″ seem to make their eyes roll back. They don’t like the sound of that, and I don’t much like the looks it generates. That said, I will admit that it was all kinds of fun the other day to get “carded” at the movies. My grey-haired friend asked for a Senior ticket and received one, no questions asked. I, who have chosen to go the route of chemical “enhancement” in the hair department for fear I would end up looking like my mother, asked for one of the same. The ticket girl (who appeared to be all of 12) looked at me and said, “I’m sorry, m’am - the age for Senior tickets here is 60″ Ohhhh, so sweet! (Not for my poor apparently-obviously-elderly friend, however!) I showed her my driver’s license, and advised her not to look at the hair or the skin so much as the hands. The wrinkles on those hands, they never lie. Sadly, she took a look at my hands and said with sudden comprehension “Oh, that’s a great tip! Thanks!” (sigh)
I’m here to tell ya, Phil — it gets a bit easier. I was pretty unhappy about it for the whole year of being 60, but since then have decided to bask in not looking quite as old as I sometimes feel. That part most assuredly does *not* get easier!
I had no trouble at all with 50, but was far less sanguine about 60. For me the main thing is that a lot, perhaps the majority even, of my friends are younger than I am — some of my best friends are the ages of my own children. To those “kids” in their 30’s, 50-ish seems at least within their sphere of comprehension. But conversations involving “60″ seem to make their eyes roll back. They don’t like the sound of that, and I don’t much like the looks it generates. That said, I will admit that it was all kinds of fun the other day to get “carded” at the movies. My grey-haired friend asked for a Senior ticket and received one, no questions asked. I, who have chosen to go the route of chemical “enhancement” in the hair department for fear I would end up looking like my mother, asked for one of the same. The ticket girl (who appeared to be all of 12) looked at me and said, “I’m sorry, m’am - the age for Senior tickets here is 60″ Ohhhh, so sweet! (Not for my poor apparently-obviously-elderly friend, however!) I showed her my driver’s license, and advised her not to look at the hair or the skin so much as the hands. The wrinkles on those hands, they never lie. Sadly, she took a look at my hands and said with sudden comprehension “Oh, that’s a great tip! Thanks!” (sigh)
I’m here to tell ya, Phil — it gets a bit easier. I was pretty unhappy about it for the whole year of being 60, but since then have decided to bask in not looking quite as old as I sometimes feel. That part most assuredly does *not* get easier!
By the way — GREAT game today! Looks like we might have a pretty good face-off later in the year after all
oops — sorry about that — thought I had grabbed it back in time to get away with tacking on that last line.
Probably the most fun of getting older, especially the last 15 years or so, is to get to know my older brother better. You have helped me through some very difficult times in my life and made the whole experience that much better! Thanks to you for all that you have done. As for diapering, forget it. I still have an Ohio State drool towel with your name on it and I’ll be there for you!
I noticed Brian said you’d be changing his diapers even though you’re the older one. Ya know Brian has still managed to dodge changing a single diaper!? He totally avoided it with Layla (grandbaby #1 for those not in the know). I’m hoping Amayah (grandbaby #2) gets him on that…. Michelle and I are plotting to leave him with Amayah sometime and go out for a long long dinner right after feeding her something sure to elicit the messy diaper.
Seriously congrats to my oldest bro !!!
As always, it beats the alternative!
And, yeah, your 60 has a lot more energy than my 48 seems to.
yes, I think your 60 has waaayyyy more energy than my 52. I do consider the psychological and physical implications of aging, and of coming to reality about being more than ‘middle-aged.’ I look @ 8 years younger (how’d I reach THAT figure — 10 is too much, 5 not enough…) and often people are surprised (or just being complementary?). I decided this week while visiting my sis, that I would like to dedicate myself to getting physically fit so that I may better enjoy my future. You seem to be a very active guy, and that is inspiring. I will use it in my quest! Happy Birthday, Phil.
Roger - I’m over it. But I still trim my eyebrows so they don’t tendril out and strangle schoolchildren.
Louise - I’d strive for “eccentric” as well. But I’ve been pushing the envelope of “eccentric” all my life, and the next stage isn’t some chuckle-chuckle-indulge-me, it’s institutionalization.
Sue - No, you’re my hero. You’re retired!!!
Springer - hope yours was happy as well.
CarrollCarroll - Since my demeanor has always tended toward the juvenile, I’ve gotten more circumspect about unleashing it. It used to be cute, but now it’s increasingly an indicator of Alzheimer’s. We need to talk some serious smack in a cuppla weeks.
Brian - this period of reacquaintance and deepening of our brotherhood has been one of the most remarkable outcomes of the maturation process. WE could have just kept exchanging Christmas cards. See you in Charleston next month. Bring the towel, just in case. For Mom, you know.
Margi - I mostly avoided it with Drew. But I remember taking him home to Pburg w/out Mrs. Perils, and scrupulously taking care of all his needs. At one point, Mom sort of elbowed me out of the way and took him upstairs to change him. I think she just wanted that one visceral grandmotherly experience.
KathyR - You’ve totally bought into my online persona. The reality is: single, my mom’s basement, 250 pounds, Cheetos from Costco. You need all the energy you’ve got to deal with your dark-side-of-the-moon 14-year-old. The zoo thing is a terrific diversion and reality check.
Tara - Must be the salutary effect of hanging out in Washington! Visit someone here, and the next day you might find yourself hiking up some mountain. My family used to call any visit to our place “Camp Philbin”. Enjoy your stay!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
Getting old ain’t no fun. We can only rejoice of the fact that it happens to everybody.
Cool thoughts. Any time we’re still alive and healthy is good. I think the band is a great way to grow new dendrites and stave off the arthritis. You were going to get hearing aids someday anyway, right?
Health obsessions apart, there are unanticipated freedoms-to and freedoms-from available in this bit, Phil. I know exactly what you mean about that feeling of having been fired from the 50s. But a year or two into this bit beyond a few lights start to go on.
May - thanks! And it actually has its moments.
Kathleen - What? What?
Dick - Now, you can’t check out with the same abandon that I can..not with a family more indicative of a 40-something