I wonder: If I live to be ninety-three years old, will I fundamentally be the same person I am now, only four inches shorter and with twenty-seven additional cats? The people who extol the virtues of “clean living” say it’ll add ten years to your life. Like that’s some big incentive. I love and worship the elderly; I’m just not so sure that being elderly myself is going to be so hot. And then I spoke with Studs Terkel. My conversation with this ninety-three-year-old man changed my life. If I could be half the man he is, I’d do a shot of wheat grass right now. Here’s a dude who survived not only several wars and forty-seven years in radio, but also open-heart surgery at the age of ninety-three! Seven weeks later, he was on a book tour. He and I talked for forty-five minutes about the unequivocal need for music, questioning authority, and relationships with strangers that everyone must maintain throughout one’s life. We spoke very little about the book he’s promoting and more about the little things that mean everything. I know he wasn’t aware of how this conversation was affecting me, but after every anecdote he rasped, I silently slapped my forehead in complete agreement. There is always something amazing about anyone’s survival in this world, let alone for more than ninety years.
Email Mary at popularcreeps at yahoo dot com.
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