Growing old

A Good Mind is Well-Aged

But Not Pickled

Ok. What the hell do I mean by that? Not Pickled?

As we age and grow older, it is inarguable that our bodies and minds require exercise in order to remain healthy and vibrant. When we reach our 60s, 70s, 80s … too many think retirement means “it’s 5 o’clock somewhere” and start their daily cocktail hour. This is repeated every day throughout the country, usually in warm weather areas.

I’m 72 years old. For a couple of years, I lived in an upscale retirement community in Arizona, even though I was far from “upscale” myself. I rode motorcycles, had long hair, wasn’t retired, but I was the right age to get in.

That, my friends, was an experience. It taught me something … specifically; I discovered where I would never allow myself to live. Not ever again. A retirement community? Just shoot me now.

Every single day of living in that community, the residents did the “wash, rinse, and repeat” cycle of life. Nothing. Some played golf or pickle ball, but most just “hung out”. But every single day at 5 o’clock (as the saying goes) it's happy hour somewhere, and it was certainly there, for sure. These folks got “pickled” daily.

State signs were placed in front of the mobile homes and everyone from that state was welcome to join in the cocktails and festivities. Chairs, tables, banners, cocktails, and old people were all in abundant supply.

After 7 pm, the crowds thinned in front of the mobile homes. Off they rode into the sunset, bouncing along in their golf carts, proudly displaying their red hats and flags in support of treason.

By 9 pm, it was finally dark, and these wannabe teenagers were passed out in front of TV sets in their living rooms. The entire community was silent, blacked out, passed out, with but a few lights.

Occasionally, the faint sounds from a TV permeated from within an aluminum wall, old windows cranked open and curtains drawn, up and down every street.

The sounds of police sirens, motorcycles, and 18 wheelers using their ‘jake brakes’ illegally could all be heard in the distance. But the community lay muted once again, at least until 5 pm the next day.

This is how to not live your life in retirement. Pickled. Bored. Waiting on the inevitable.

So in the name of remaining active and keeping my mind as “sharp as a tack” as my grandma used to say, I don’t recognize cocktail hour. Nor do I look at retirement community ads. Most assuredly, I will never end up in a retirement community. I may take up pickle ball, though.

What’s my point here? It seems I have more than one.

First, now you know what I meant by pickled. Pickle ball, you’ll have to ‘google’.

Second, when old boomers do nothing but hang out in retirement communities getting pickled, just know this is not how things should go when you age, my friend. There are better things awaiting than staggering around a retirement community of several thousand mobile homes in Florida or Arizona, wearing a red hat and calling people you don’t like “commie leftists”.

This thing with old people these past few years, wearing red MAGA hats and waving un-American flags, wandering around as if they’re lost or drunk ... (come to think of it, maybe they are lost or drunk). They’re kind of like squirrels staggering around a park after eating pickled berries.

Of course, squirrels don’t have golf carts and scream “you commie leftist punks” every time you walk by them, waving their un-American flags in your face. They don’t wear hats either, come to think of it. Go figure, huh? Squirrels just may be smarter than we think.

But there is also another point I need to make here. If you want to live to 100 years of age, maintaining good health and remaining active are important to keep the body and mind active. Especially if one (me) wants to achieve (my) goal of living to 100. Hell, maybe I’ll even make it to 101!

Now I just have to remember to do my exercises and take my meds.