Today is my 65th birthday.
Chances are you have no idea what that means.
Would you like to know? I can tell you.
Turning 65 can only be described using these two words:
The first: Anagnorisis the moment of critical discovery; the discovery of one's own identity or true character
The second: Peripeteia the sudden, probable and necessary change of circumstance to its opposite
I have no doubt that half the people who click on this thread will stop reading right now.
More's the pity. If you do you've postponed your moment of critical discovery a bit longer.
To deny is to not bear.
Does all that sound too serious? Sorry. As my Grandma use to say: Tough Titty:)
If you live in the Western world, as I do, life is all about looking young, beautiful, fit, sexy and being cool.
Can anybody deny that? Not easily.
For the few of you left still reading...I continue.
Turning 65 is my peripeteia.
I can't "look" young without injecting boxtox into my lines and puffing out those telltale indices of Anagnorisis.
To not deny is to bear.
I'm 65 and will not dye my hair, botox my lines or lie about my age, chase after young women or avoid my reversal of fortune to come.
There, I've said it.
The culture I'm living in--being in denial--won't respect me for my experience. So be it. I'm not going to be anybody's role model.
They are too busy watching Brazilian Butt-Lift commercials and taking Ginko tablets.
My heroes have been buried a long time: Aristotle, Rachmaninoff, Shakespeare, Sorolla....
My favorite movies are referred to cloyingly as "Golden Era" and gather dust on the shelves.
I've become thrilled less and less. I've been disappointed more and more.
Turning 65 is a moment of honesty.
I wasted the best years of my youth in a cult. I was well-intentioned and stupid.
I failed at four marriages.
I never earned much money. I won't leave behind a fortune or dazzling possessions.
What's that you say Grandma? "Tough Titty".
Yes.
I see only a couple of stragglers are still with me. Looking for wisdom are you---or, just simply curious?
What is left for me to do is simple.
Love my kids. Effectively. Be there for them.
Continue writing as truthfully as I can about the poison pill of Jehovah's Witnesses.
And...
never stop learning. Be willing to be wrong......again. As often as necessary.
At least, this way, I do leave an important legacy:
It matters less that you've lived a fool as long as you die an honest man.
There! All finished. Thanks for listening.
Cheers!
Oh well... at least you still write good threads... 