As of this October 2, I am 70 years old. While I see wrinkles on my person, I see no wrinkles in my thoughts. Quirks, yes. No doubt. But they were woven into the tapestry of me long before reaching 70. (If I see a box of Triscuit Crackers, say, with the word “Original” on it, I’ll sometimes take the box to customer service, point out the word, original, and ask if they realize how old the crackers are.)
I suspect I am saying nothing that will surprise someone who has reached 70 ahead of me. For instance, I’m 70 and I can still walk and talk and function and ride a bike and joke and, would you believe it, the attraction to women is still there!
The good news is age does not protect you (thankfully) from being smitten by a woman who is so enchanting one’s knees begin to buckle. At this point, if you’ll permit me to have fun for a moment, I be smoted. And then, if it is the real thing, full blown smittification sets in.
The truth is, I don’t have much to say that finds itself rooted in wisdom. I can tell you that everything I say here is rooted in honesty, rigorous honesty.
And I will tell you this. Remember to live. Don’t let the day-in-day-out rigors of life prevent you from enjoying life; pause to enjoy a sunrise or sunset. Don’t miss the jewels of birdsong that fill the air in Spring, as each is looking for a mate, hoping to be smittified.
And, as Oscar Wilde said, “Be yourself, everyone else is already taken.”