June 2, 2020 (In The Year of the Trump Virus)

June 2, 2020 (In The Year of the Trump Virus)

I got up (too) early to go to Trader Joe's for their matinee senior hour.  Once we got there, I saw only one line to go in, so we stood in line.  The woman in front of us told me that there is a senior section where you can go in right away.  I thanked her, which was very kind of her to point this out to me, and then it came to my attention that I now look like a senior to the outside world.  My life until this point, people mention how young I looked, but alas, that is now not the case anymore.

Once you get into the entrance, they spray some liquid on to your hands, and you're free to roam in the store, but you must follow the directional arrows, which I do with great passion. I realize that what makes me happy is to be told what to do. I'm crazy about that. I love people giving me directions, and I follow their floorplan or design.  Being a life-long Jacques Tati fan, I admire how individuals fit into the overall design.  There's a sign in the store that said no more than five individuals in this aisle.  I thought that was perfect.  I counted four people, and then I jumped into that space, as happy as a bee approaching a flower.

I go to Trader Joe's for the sole purpose of buying Charles Shaw wine.  We get a month's supply of wine, which is three-cases.  I can't have dinner without white wine of some sort, and then while watching a show, nowadays it's "Babylon Berlin," I have a glass of Merlot.  After the show, I get a second glass and meditate on the past 24-hours.  It's not a quiet meditation.  It's a horror show.

As I write, things are happening that are not good.  The Trump Virus is raging. Yesterday it was 978 new cases and 22 deaths from the virus. Today there are 1,202 new cases and 60 deaths from the virus in the County of Los Angeles. When I go out, I see more people are feeling relaxed about social distances and wearing masks. For the last four days or so, no one talks about this, at least in the media, due to the police killing of Black Americans. It's interesting to note in Los Angeles County; there are 394 Asians, 265 Blacks, 917 Hispanic/Latinos, and 643 Whites who died so far from the virus. When someone dies either from murder or an infection, how each death affects their community - among friends, co-workers, family members, and so on.  The world is not good to us.  On the other hand, we're not good for the world.  - Tosh Berman

December 9, 2014

December 9, 2014

60.  Why?  There is no reason why I should have reached 60.  Yet, technically I’m not a senior citizen.  Yet.   Most experts say that the age 65 is when you become a senior citizen.  Sadly I can’t officially get a discount at a movie theater nor one for a public bus pass - but at both times, the middle-aged person asked me if I’m asking for a senior citizen’s discount or pass.  I could lie and tell them that I’m 65, but the truth is I’m 60.   This is exactly how I felt when I was 14 or 15 and wanted to get a license to drive. I had the talents of a driver, but I couldn’t obtain a license due to my age.  So once again, like a teenager, I’m waiting till I reach a certain number (65) before I cash in for the discounts and etc.

Emotionally and intellectually, I feel exactly the same as when I was 35.   Basically there is no real difference between the ages of 35 and 60.  The one thing I do notice when I’m 60 is that people around you begin to die off.  Famous people, as well as friends.  And especially friends of your parents or other older family members.   35 strikes me as the age when you’re an adult.  Not legally, that happens when you’re either 18 or 21.  But I find most people in their 20s are still trying to figure out what to be done in their life.   Basically, the 20s is very much like being a teenager, but you have the ability to move out of your family home (for some) or make financial decisions.  Otherwise you’re very much still a teenager.   Some people get married in their 20s, but if they asked me for advice I would tell them to wait till they are in their 30s.   Unless they have grown up in a certain culture, I think getting married in their 20s is OK, but for most Americans who live in America today, I would strongly suggest holding off on marriage and major decisions on career moves.  It is not till you’re 35, when life becomes much clearer than when you’re a teenager or in your 20s.

The worst fear of being in your 60s, is the fact that one’s looks starts to fade or change, and you will of course be facing death - either as a subject matter or someone close to you will eventually die.   That in three words: Is. A. Bummer.   As for me, I like to be attractive to the opposite sex as much as possible.  When I was young, I was quite handsome, but now, staring at the mirror I realized age has changed me.  The worst is the stomach area got bigger, and that is a very fragile emotional point for me.  I used to be so skinny or slim, but now, I look very much like a 60 year-old man, who doesn’t exercise on a regular basis.  Me, doing exercises, would just remind me that I’m 60 and that is kind of depressing.  Women don’t look at me like they used to - especially women in their 20s or 30s.   That is quite painful.  The only thing I have in my favor is charm, but that is like fine wine in a bottle that is placed in the garage or wine cellar.  It becomes an object to admire, but no one wishes to taste its flavor.

As I got older two artists that I adore much more as a “senior citizen” is the filmmaker John Cassavetes and the composer Pierre Henry.   I feel that they make art for older people.  I never got Musique concréte as a raving youth, but now, that I’m an adult, I appreciate the aesthetics of sound that is around me.  For instance as I write in my wife’s studio, I can hear the morning traffic, which has a consistent rhythm that is very suitable for writing.   The one surprise is to hear the sound of car crashes on the No. 5 freeway (which is directly behind our house).   But normally it is just one long purr - it’s fantastic.  Some of Pierre Henry’s work reminds me of the beauty of hearing traffic out of one’s window.  As for Cassavaetes, it is middle-age angst.  I can identify with that!  “Opening Night” is the film that I like the best from all his other films. I think it’s a masterpiece, with a brilliant performance from Gina Rowlands.   An aging actress dealing with a theater role that in turns makes her think of aging, relationships changing, and the need for love.  Or to give love.   Although it has a strong point-of-view from a female’s perspective on the subject matter of aging, I too can identify with her, as well as with the other cast members in that film.

At this point, I’m still too young at 60, to really understand the full meaning of aging.  I’m hoping that when I reach 65, and receive the official discounts one deserves for a ‘long’ life, I will finally understand what it means to be an old person.  Till then, it’s a paradise of my own making.