My View From 72


My View From 72

Me, officially a geezer, at least in my reckoning.


            I am not sure what I expected when I reached seven decades of life, but I am rather okay with it since I have little choice.  That is a good thing because my life certainly could be worse, excluding the bizarre aches and pains.  More astounding, at least to me, is that I have made it this far.

            When I was still in single digits, or maybe teenage years, someone six or seven decades old was positively ancient.  They seemed to be only one or two generations away from when woolly mammoths roamed the earth and lived through things like The Depression and World Wars.  These wizened creatures experienced no electricity, no central heat, outhouses and other inconveniences, yet fondly recalled such things.  Do I appear like that to younger people?  Probably! Do they know what woolly mammoths are, and if so, do they too think I am only a few generations removed from them?  Actually, on the rare occasions when I do get to talk to younger people, I am astounded by what they do not know.

            What people think about me is not as important as it was in my youth.  As a result, I tend to say what is on my mind if it seems appropriate, but just as often I decline to reveal what is on my mind because I recognize most folks truly do not care about what I think.  That is sad for without forthright conversations, how can we get to know one another?



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