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There is both positive and negative aging. Negative aging, I'm
convinced, begins in the mind. The majority of us Americans learn negative aging behavior
from our culture. We are told that we're expected to work long and hard and then, sorry,
you rock in your chair a while-just before you die. We're reminded constantly
that the body just wears out and the gloom-spreaders report if you're really lucky, the
mind goes after the body fails. Think about all the powerful verbal cues that surround us
describing the horrors of that first wrinkle, graying hair, baldness, retirement, a pesky
prostate, sagging body parts, dentures, and the dowager's hump.
All of this amounts to negative reinforcement. To be old, says this thinking, is
to suffer. I don't buy it, and neither should you.
Yes I accept that
change and hardships come with aging-but that is only one part of a far larger story. I
believe that if you're willing to make the effort, the aging chapter of your life remains
yours to craft. Popular author Deepak Chopra, M.D., who dresses better than I do and has a
few more readers, writes in Ageless Body, Timeless Mind, "Every day we are either
learning or unlearning what it means to age. Will we try new ways of living, or will we
leave our bodies and minds to the crushing weight of cultural condition which, over time,
leaves us broken, ill and, yes, old?"
Then there are the words of that less-sophisticated prophet, Elroy
"Satchell" Paige. This incomparable baseball pitcher, who was forced to spend
most of his long career in the Negro Leagues because of blatant racial segregation, once
asked, "How old would you be if you didn't know how old you was?" This
marvelous, all-American quotation remains the perfect squelch to those hung up on
age-specific chronology.
As senior adults, and outrageous older men, we are well-advised not to take life
too seriously. Further, we have license to keep alive within us that inner child. "We
are intended to remain in many ways childlike," anthropologist Ashley Montagu once
wrote. "We were never intended to grow up into the kind of adults most of us have
become. We are designed. . . to grow and develop in ways that emphasize rather than
minimize childlike traits."
An educator, as well as a shrewd observer, Montagu suggests we have only to watch
children to understand the essential nature of fun and abandon. To children, curiosity is
as natural as breathing. From curiosity comes playfulness, open-mindedness, the
willingness to experiment, flexibility, humor, energy, and, of course, imagination. To my
mind, none of these qualities is precluded by aging. Therefore, we outrageous guys have
every right to test ourselves by asking the following question: "How many of these
behaviors do you see within yourself today?"
Because confession is good for the soul, I admit that I sneak into swimming pools.
Just like some kid, I find a way to cross the line from outside to inside because I like
to swim and I especially enjoy trying Out different pools. Much like the boy who collects
baseball cards, or the matron proud of her row of antique clocks, I collect pools where I
have beaten the gate, so to speak.
Where have I violated house rules? For years while living in Florida I
"borrowed" a Holiday Inn pool ("For guests only" read the sign I
ignored) and just off the ocean at Lake Worth, I favored a saltwater pool that was the
property of a Ramada Inn, or some such. I was almost always the only one swimming.
A major conquest was a pool on the Stanford University campus. "Suppose I
were to sneak in there?" I asked a professor, someone half my age. He answered,
"They would consider that extremely bad form." Five minutes later I was in the
college pool, alone and thrilled at my hijinks. I wondered what Ashley Montagu would say
to me now?
You see, being an outrageous older man has both responsibilities ("What zany
things have you done lately?") and privileges. What better time for sport, and
nonsense, than in these senior years? I mean, who was I bothering? And everywhere I
turned, someone was telling me to exercise.
Now another of my life-teachers has been Dr. Edward Rosenbaum, internist and
author. Ed is a recovered cancer patient who takes infinite pleasure from each new day and
his circle of longtime friends.
"A fountain of youth flows within ourselves," he once told me, when he
was in his seventies. "Its an ever-renewing current of life, a constant miracle that
most of us are too busy or otherwise distracted to truly appreciate. Perhaps only with
age, and the knowledge that time has grown more precious, are some of us able to recognize
the fountain, and to cherish all over again our capacity to think, feel, laugh, and
love."
natural storyteller, this man of medicine has spent a provisional life listening
to his patients. Here is a story Out of the Rosenbaum file that belongs in any essay on
positive aging.
Nearing 70, a gardener goes shopping for flowering trees and listens next to a
stand of magnolias. The young nursery owner walks over and says "Sir, those trees
aren't for you. It takes that e at least ten years before it really blooms." The
senior gardener quickly replies, "Good, I'll take three."
Dr. Rosenbaum continues his narrative, adding "My friend lived to see his
magnolia trees bloom spectacularly. For a number springs before he died, my friend enjoyed
his special magnolia trees."
Ed Rosenbaum's friend, and indeed most outrageous men I know,, are stubborn as
they zealously guard their convictions. Moreover,, they will never allow someone to tell
them they're too 1. Writing in Say Yes To Aging, Dr. Alex Comfort refers to this
bloody-mindedness."." He then explains this is a British Army m and contains
overtones of "heroic obstinacy in not being t down." He calls it the "chief
adaptive character of man" and ~ "ultimate resource of the older person."
Comfort also quotes the Welsh poet Dylan Thomas who, of course, wrote "Do not
go gentle into that good night."
With this bloody-minded spirit at the fore, let me offer you the Outrageous Older
Man's ten commandments-injunctions help you remain heroic, yet well-liked. For the record,
I first 'received the commandments, in a slightly different form, from Dorothy Barlow,, a
widow who soon will turn 100. She is the lest reader of my column and periodically writes
me from )Florence, AZ, where she lives on a desert cactus farm.
1. Thou shalt narrate stories of past adventures two times only, unless pressured
by popular request.
2. Thou shalt not interrupt thy spouse's stories.
3. Thou shalt be socially agreeable at all times because visitors are to an older
gentleman what a hot meal is to a homeless person.
4. Thou shalt daily be engaged in some labor, so the evening hours be seasoned
with the sweet satisfaction of accomplishments.
5. Thou shalt nourish thy sense of humor, lest it wither and die.
6. Thou shalt smile, lest the muscles of thy face freeze into a permanent frown.
7. When the opportunity for laughter comes, laugh with others and not at them.
8. On hearing that a grandchild (or even a close friend) has entered into a
live-in relationship without benefit of clergy, thou shalt refrain from making clucking
sounds or rolling of the eyes. Verily, it is none of thy business.
9. Thou shalt not listen to any nonsense about being old, dull, slow-witted, weak,
bent, infirm, or crotchety, for verily it is ageism-the work of warped minds.
10. Thou shalt remember that thou art an Outrageous Older Man, who is a doer of
deeds, an achiever, a worker in the name of good. Thou mayest rage and deliver verbal
broadsides but never-no never carp, complain, or whine. Amen. |