A Few Thoughts On Being Seventy-Four

I was lying in bed this morning groggily thinking, am I seventy-four or seventy-five. Then the reality of it all hit me. Damn! I'm an old man even though I don't feel like one.

I was in Olathe, Kansas last week visiting my eldest son and we were having a conversation about Biden and Sanders and their ages. He said, "Why would anyone that old want to be president?"

And I concurred. I retired from my sales job, the one in which I drove 75,000 miles a year when I was 62. Although I do have to admit my mileage the last couple of years was down to 50,000. I was tired and, basically, didn't feel I was doing the job that I did twenty years earlier. I was hot into golf so I want to play as much as I could. I belonged to a club and had around fifteen buddies playing. It was wonderful. I have to admit it was the best time of my life.

Please understand I don't know about the physical demands of being president of the United States but it cannot be easy. It's a 24/7 job. A person would be constantly inundated with meeting and greeting people, meetings all day long, flying off to hither and you. Yeesh! There have to be times when a guy, or someday a gal, would want to say to those demanding their time, "Go screw yourself. I'm staying home and playing solitaire."

So, here we have Bernie and Joe galivanting around the country telling us they want this job to get the country back on track. Are they nuts?

Anyone with a liter of a brain knows it's about the power of the job. God knows both of them have cheated their way into millions of dollars over the years so all that's left is to have the number 46 after their name.

Know what I enjoy? Getting up in the morning, taking a sip of that first cup of coffee and reading the news about what these late in life old goats are up to. The drawback is after an hour it tires me out so I take a mid-morning nap.