Don't Let Him In

… is the title of an intriguing book by Lisa Jewell that I’m listening to on Audible. Alongside Symphony of Secrets, the book by Brendan Slocumb that I just finished reading, it paints a pretty depressing portrait of toxic men supported by the three evil isms—sexism, capitalism and (in the latter), racism. 

 

But it also is a reminder that Clint Eastwood gave when he was asked how he could be so active at 90 years old: “I just don’t let the old man in.” Freshly 74, I hear that man knocking at my door and need to be careful about how wide I open it. There were times in the recent Orff course when a dance movement went to the floor and back where I deferred and even a few times during vigorous dancing when I just sat on the side. But here in Michigan, I'm renewing my campaign to not let the old man into my body’s house. Consider. In just two days, I’ve done the following: 

 

·      10 mile bike ride

·      6 mile beach walk

·      1 mile canoe

·      1 mile kayak

·      1mile swim

·      15 games of cornhole

·      Frisbee

·      Rock skipping contest

·      Paddleball

·      Kickball game

• Volleyball game

 

That’s the active side of the “keep the old man out” routine. Then there’s the playful, game-playing self— Taboo, Rummy 500, King’s Corner, PIT, Spoons, Salad bowl charades, most of which we play after dinner. That "we" is four over-70’s folks—my wife, me and two brother-in-laws, three people in their 40’s —my two daughters and a boyfriend— and two teens, my grandkids. Miraculously, we all enjoy each other so much and these active games and exercises side-by-side certainly helps keep things fun between us. If someone were to write a novel about it, it would not be a best-seller. It appears that human failings are much more interesting to read about than people getting along and having fun. 

 

Maybe that’s as things should be. Keep the horrors confined to novels and plays and operas and keep our best selves alive in our actual day-to-day lives. In company with the cool unsalted lake waters, bald eagles soaring overhead, evening sunsets savored out on the deck. To quote another edgy novel/film, this little corner of paradise is “No Country for Old Men.”