Turning 65

Where did all the time go? It seems that just yesterday I was in my 50's and only months ago I was in my 30's. All of a sudden I'm retired, on Social Security and Medicare, a member of AARP, and suffer from arthritis. Somewhere along the line I mellowed and realize I'm probably not going to change the world.

Time," it seems, is relative. To what extent I don't know, except that by human standards, there is a beginning and an end. We're born and we die. And until humans invented the clock and calendar, the length of the period in between didn't matter very much. You simply woke up and tried to survive the day. If you did survive, you did the same thing the next day, and the next. If you were lucky you could do this about 10,000 times before you died. I've now done it 23,725 times and I'm still going pretty strong. Or, if I measured my life in hours and minutes and seconds as many humans do, then I have lived 569,400 hours. Or 34,164,000 minutes. Or 2,049,840,000 seconds. A lot of them were wasted in so many ways.

You know that age-old question, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" Well, I'm now "grown up" and I still don't know what I want to be. I suppose I could answer by saying "rich" or "famous" or "handsome" or "smart" but I think the point of the question is more toward what profession I would have enjoyed as an adult. But all things interest me, none so much that I would want to do it day in and day out for thousands of hours or millions of minutes or billions of seconds. So the hidden answer to that ageless question, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" turns out to be, for me at least, "happy." Looking back, I think I have achieved it without ever knowing that it was my ultimate goal.