Somewhere along the way, I found that age has crept up on me.
It wasn’t the creaking joints, or the excessively grey, yet excessively thinning, hair, or the need to keep myself parked in a comfy chair or propped up by pillows in my comfy bed.
I firmly believe those things aren’t anything more than just flavor or character traits. I also firmly believe that my age is the result of the effect of others.
For instance, there’s the graduation ceremonies that have shown up across our neck of the woods, including the last student of the Farkas brood. I still remember tucking her into bed under her Tinkerbell sheets and comforter, so how can it be that she was walking across a stage and accepting a high-school diploma?
Then there’s one of my favorite musicians dying last week. Rick Derringer, who many of you may not know but has had quite a bit of influence on the world of music, was my first-ever concert. I still own all of his records (my favorite being “If I Weren’t So Romantic, I’d Shoot You”) and still turn up the radio when the oldies station puts out “Hang On, Sloopy” or “Rock and Roll, Hootchie Koo.”
Somehow through all of this, kids today got a heckuva lot younger, too. At one time, I could clock a person’s age; I recently took the state’s alcohol server test for a charity wine tasting. I quickly noticed that there’s a wide swath of looks that seem too young, but in reality, are quite a lot older (as their IDs attested to, much to my embarrassment and chagrin).
As with most people, I tend to do a little (OK, a lot) of scrolling through those Facebook videos, only to be regaled about how many of my favorite songs have reached the half-century mark. Many of the people I grew up with have passed, and I find that when I look through obituaries, I notice the ages and somehow, they’re very similar to my own.
During the Apple Springs graduation ceremony, the keynote speaker made mention of time, so I will also touch upon that, because as you can tell, I’ve found that age crept up on me because time kept on slippin’, slippin’, slippin’ into the future (the song of which, believe it or not, turns 50 next year).
Since I usually toss out pithy comments this time of year, and since time passages (another song born in the 1970s) are stuck in my brain, I will combine the two.
First and foremost, be mindful of time. To paraphrase a friend of mine, don’t confuse activity with living.
Just because you are in a constant state of motion, remember to use that motion for your benefit, not for others’ expectations. Jumping from school, or college, or employment, doing what is expected is a recipe for early onset indigestion. Learn for your benefit; work at what you enjoy; hang out with people who provide meaning and support. Do it because you want to and do it before the opportunity passes you by.
Secondly, age is a state of mind, which is why I feel such disconnect about my age. My mind says I’m still in my late 20s or early 30s, my birth certificate says I’m 62, and my body feels that I somehow was run over by an overladen ox cart during the Roman occupation of Hungary. But I choose to ignore my government papers and my lying body and go with my mind, mostly because it’s more fun in there, but also because I choose to enjoy my time.
Lastly, I feel that the acceptance of those around me has led to a lot of time wasted living for others. While it is necessary to work with and among folks with disparate needs, if it’s not a benefit to you, don’t waste that time. Don’t set unobtainable goals, don’t forget that family and friends are most important, and listen to that little voice that tells you to step away from unnecessary events and activities.
All of this was summed up pretty eloquently by Simon and Garfunkel (in 1966, go figure):
“Time, time, time
See what’s become of me
While I looked around for my possibilities
I was so hard to please
Look around …”
Tony Farkas is editor of the Trinity County News-Standard and the San Jacinto News-Times. He can be reached at tony@polkcountypublishing.com.
