If I weren’t as old as I am, and if there weren’t other people I was responsible to, I would probably give up on the United States of America.
I’m not sure where I would go.
Canada always seems like the easy choice. In most of the country they speak the same language we do, and in these years of global warming, I think I would prefer the colder climate.
Before I go any further, let me clarify. I have a wife I love dearly, two children who mean the world to me and six grandchildren that I adore. I would not do anything that would take me farther from any of them.
But if they didn’t exist …
To use a metaphor I have used before, if life were a round of golf — 18 holes — I’m probably somewhere around the 17th tee these days. My next birthday will be No. 73, although it’s nearly 11 months away.
There are so few people I value that aren’t old. I looked up an actress I like, and I saw she will be 70 (Christine Baranski) later this year. Another one I enjoy a great deal will be 48 (Amy Adams) and one I think of as very young will be 37 Amanda Seyfried).
Nearly everyone I like in the music world is old, although I have recently been enjoying 32-year-old Taylor Swift’s music a lot.
The only really young people I know are my grandchildren, and I heard my granddaughter Arti’s voice over the phone from Beijing five minutes after she was born. Crying, not speaking. Less than two weeks later, I sang to her while she took a nap on my chest.
She’s still young, just 13 years old with her life in front of her.
More than anything, the motivation I have to stick around is wanting to see her and her siblings grow up. I always figured I could check out around age 80, but if I want to see my youngest, little Albanie, finish high school I have to make it to at least 82.
An awful lot of my apprehension at growing too much older is seeing what happened to my parents. My Dad lived to age 82, but the last six years were a smorgasbord of serious health problems. My mother lived to 93, but her health was problematics for 8-10 years.
If I could make it to 80 without being a burden to anyone, I could check out then. I do not want to be a burden on my wife or my children.
Maybe the best way to check out would be to do what the monster did at the end of Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein” — just keep walking north until there’s no place to walk.
Not completely serious here, but unless some things change, I don’t think I want my last years to be spent in this country.
I’m so tired of a country that cares more about the next smartphone model than the health of its children.
Well, I hope I got that out of my system.
Perfectly and beautifully said. I was just thinking almost the exact same thoughts 2 days ago.