As old as we feel


I think every good teacher has a sort of “schtick”, you know? A little joke or style or habit that the kids identify as special to that particular teacher.

Some teachers speak in interesting languages, or have everyone identify classical music, or bring in pictures of their babies.

I joke about my advancing age.

I know, its pitiful.  But I have colleagues who were born after I started teaching. What can I say?  I have shoes that are older than some of the people I work with.

I often put this picture up on the Smartboard with my morning message. I pretend its me.

"Hand in that homework or else!"

“Hand in that homework or else!”

I think about my age a lot. “Too old to learn to ski.” “Too old to play capture the flag.” “Too old to wear new styles.” I talk about my age too much.

I think I better stop it.

Last night we went out with some friends to hear music at a local venue. Its a place with great food and a good atmosphere and we really enjoy the company of the couple who invited us. I wasn’t thinking much about the performance, to be honest.

The night started with a group of very, very young musicians who played good solid modern pop/rock. If I closed my eyes, I could have mixed them up with several bands that I hear on the radio.  If I opened my eyes, I felt like I was looking at my students.  The bass player, in particular, looked like he was three years away from his first shave. They were babies.

They were cute.  And super confident. The seemed to be pretty sure that they were the next big thing, and that they had mastered the essence of cool.  They even had the audacity to sing a song called “When I was young”, which got a laugh out of the audience and a bristling response from the lead singer.

They finished up, we chatted for a bit, and then the Legend came on stage. He was slight, a bit stooped, wearing black jeans and a black Tshirt with a black leather vest.  He smiled a little vaguely into the spot light and mumbled some words of welcome.  His band included of a pudgy keyboard player with a grey ponytail that hung from the crown of his freckled, balding head. The guitarist was greying and jowled.  The drummer was the youngster of the group, and he could have been the Grampa of any one of that first band. I lowered my expectations a bit.

Then the music began and time lost all meaning.

Albert Lee, guitarist extraordinaire, leaned into his signature red “Music Man” guitar and played as if it was 1968.  This was his 70th Birthday Tour, but you wouldn’t have known it to hear him. He played with absolutely no awareness of his thinning white hair, the sagging skin of his arms or the aging of his neck. He didn’t acknowledge his age, so it wasn’t there. His voice was strong and pure and sweet as honey.  His picking was flawless and his rhythms crisp and clean.

They played everything from country to rockabilly to early rock and roll.  The Everly Brothers to Emmy Lou Harris. It was FUN!

And I looked around that room, and watched people swaying and clapping and dancing in their chairs.  And I realized that not one of us was thinking about our silver hair, or the bifocals on our noses.  Albert told us that we were 25 again, and we believed him.

Maybe Albert Lee has the secret to aging really well, and maybe I need to learn that lesson.  Ignore time completely, and just keep singing.  Just keep playing and dancing. Hold onto the things you love, and enjoy them every day.

The world doesn’t really belong to the young; it belongs to those who feel young.

14 thoughts on “As old as we feel

  1. From one “old gal” to another, I am here to tell you that it’s not too late to learn to ski, I am certain you could still play capture the flag & I dare you to try wearing new styles!!! Never give in to the I’m too old to….just embrace it & do it! You never know until you try:) /Great post!

    Like

  2. I’ve followed your posts for some time nodding in recognition as I read your words but never replying until now.
    For me it was catching a performance of the Moody Blues. As soon as they came on stage, I was truly surprised, they were old! Never mind that I was in my late 50’s, I certainly didn’t look as old as they did. I immediately worried that their voices would crack like mine does when I sing in the shower, that their fingers would no longer be nimble enough to play the chords or breath strong enough to sing or play the flute. Looking around I saw that the audience was around my age so I hoped they’d be generous toward the group. Moody Blues was one of my favorites and I didn’t want them to be embarrassed.
    There was no need to worry. The voices and instrumentation was as solid as it was years ago.
    Time melted away.
    Perhaps its because I am part of the Baby Boomer generation but I increasingly believe old age is an attitude. While aging happens with the passing of time, old age does not.

    Thanks for your post.

    Like

    • Nice to “meet” you! Thank you for the comment; its funny, because my husband and I saw the Moody Blues about 30 years ago, and they were a huge disappointment. No energy; and they weren’t even that old! Same happened with Eric Clapton years ago.
      So we had low expectations last night, but I was just so taken by the totally comfortable way that Albert Lee performed. He had no self-consciousness, no intent to impress, no awareness of his own importance. He was doing what he does. He was himself. I didn’t word it very well, but that was the message that I got!

      Like

  3. I was much younger when I was too old to learn to ski,but other than that, age is relative. As long as you keep learning, then you’re still growing. Oh, and at 40 I was too old to learn French as well as skiing!

    Great video!

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s