I was yet to turn 21 in 1967 when the Beatles released “When I’m Sixty-Four” as part of the Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album. Aside from being a catchy and popular tune, the song made all of us ponder back then what it would be like to be 64 and when we would hit that age. When you’re 20 years old, 64 seems light years away, and I honestly didn’t think I’d last until 2010. Too many things can go wrong, you know.

In less than two weeks — on July 9th — I will turn 64.

When I get older, losing my hair
Many years from now
Will you still be sending me a Valentine
Birthday greetings, Bottle of wine
If I’d been out till quarter to three
would you lock the door
Will you still need me
Will you still feed me
When I’m sixty-four

I’m a lucky fellow, I think, to have lived this long and in the period that I’ve called my life. Old fogeyness is coming upon me, because I like to talk about how much things have changed, and mostly for the good. I grew up with rock-n-roll, and I’m thankful to have been a part of that. Vietnam was my war, and I still marvel today when the flight I’m on welcomes troops coming back from the current war. We didn’t know that at all. I’ve witnessed the death of smoking, the rise of women and the advent of the computer. Race relations are actually similar to what they were back then, but that’s the subject of an entire article. Love continues on, but marriage, like religion, is a troubled institution.

I could be handy mending a fuse
When your lights have gone
You can knit a sweater by the fireside
Sunday mornings, go for a ride
Doing the garden, digging the weeds
Who could ask for more
Will you still need me
Will you still feed me
When I’m sixty-four

There are a few things that surprise me about being 64, things that hadn’t occurred to me those many years ago. First of all, I don’t think I’m 64. I mean, my body shows the sign and serves as a constant reminder, but I still see life through these same eyes. If it wasn’t for the bodily reminders, I really wouldn’t think of myself as 64. Time is a linear process, a created dimension. Our spirits and souls stand still in a constant here and now, while everything else moves. So the thought of actually being the same person is pretty easy for me, and I think it’ll be that way until I breathe my last. Secondly, young people look just, well, young. I can’t tell if a young lady is 16 or 25; they both look the same to me, and I never thought that would be the case. I also find youth to be incredibly arrogant; they seem to think they invented everything from sex to getting high to cool. Life will slap them and that will be that.

Send me a postcard, drop me a line
stating point of view
indicate precisely what you mean to say
yours sincerely wasting away
Give me your answer fill in a form
mine forever more
Will you still need me
Will you still feed me
When I’m sixty-four

Thirdly, I have so much more respect for my parents and their generation these days. Karen and I talk about it all the time, and I’m honestly speechless at their sacrifice — to each other, to us, and especially to the culture itself. There will never be another generation like them, and I’m stunned to hear myself say that. Fourth, I marvel at how we used to play with virtually nothing as kids and how our imaginations were able to turn a stick into any form of weapon we chose. The games we play today still require imagination, but it’s more applied in strategy and tactics. I marvel at the skill of young people who play video games, to say nothing about their ability to multi-task while so doing.

I have made many discoveries in this life of mine, but the most significant occurred 12 years ago, when I realized I was an asshole. We’re all assholes, really. It’s just that some of us know it, and those who do are in for a much easier ride.

I could wax on, but I’ll stop here. Groovy, huh?

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