A Shattered Illusion

March 2025

The other morning, I took my truck to the dealership for an oil change. The whole process generally takes less than an hour, so I just hung out in the waiting room drinking coffee, glancing at old magazines, and watching a TV that was perched on the wall in the corner of the room. As I sat there, more people came in to do the same thing I was doing.  Before long, there were four other men waiting there with me.  We were moderately friendly of course, issuing a grumbled greeting as each new member entered the group.  Generally included was a comment about the weather or how tired we were of winter. Typical stuff that older guys chat about when waiting together for something.  As time passed, all of us slowly became engaged in watching some silly morning show that was droning on the television. 

The hosts introduced their guest, Anthony Michael Hall.  Do you remember him?  He was a teen actor from the 1980’s, whose most notable roles were in the coming-of-age films Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, and Weird Science. Prior to that, he played the role of Rusty Griswold, in the movie National Lampoon's Vacation. Which is a classic in my book.  As the show’s hosts discussed his catalog of work, it came out that Vacation was filmed forty-three years earlier, in 1982. Mr. Hall is now 56 years old.  And truthfully, he looked his age.  During the interview he talked about having a 22-month-old baby with his 33-year-old wife.  Of course, the dudes in the waiting room laughed at this knowingly. And with this interesting information as a catalyst, we started to chat. 

We recanted his movies, each able to repeat a line from one or another of them.  As a lot of guys seem to be able to do.  I know my share of ridiculous movie quotes, that is certain. Just ask my kids. Anyway, my waiting room inmates and I all discussed how we wouldn’t want a 22-month-old child at 56.  Who would?  But a 33-year-old wife?  Well, maybe!  With this, we somehow began talking about our own ages.  To my utter surprise, it turned out that I was the oldest person in the room.  And by quite a wide margin.  I am sixty-two years old.

For me this was not only extremely shocking, but it was also somewhat disheartening.  I might also add a little worrisome.  No offense to the guys I was sitting with, and granted it was 8:30am  on a freezing cold Monday morning. We were all just barely out of bed and none of us were looking our best. But all these guys looked like old men to me.  In my mind’s eye, I did not envision myself being as old as these guys, or old at all for that matter. “Do I really look that old”, I pondered? This really made me contemplate life and especially the toll time was taking on me.

The funny thing is, I often forget that I’m not young.  Except when I need to jump over something or walk on ice.  Oh yeah, or climb up in my truck, or get out of the chair, or when I’m bending over to get something I dropped.  Or when I am trying to read a menu after forgetting my readers.  Or when I… ok you get the drift!  But I was thinking purely about appearance at this point. Or the perception of what I assumed I looked like to others. Which was now clearly becoming a personal delusion.

I have read that people's subjective age, meaning how old they feel or feel they look, is often much younger than their chronological age. Along with this, I am pretty certain there are positive physical and mental health benefits from feeling younger than you are. All of us have also heard many, many times, that being “old” is a mindset. If you think you’re old, then you are old. As I thought about this, I realized that this may actually be about self-preservation.  Your brain doesn’t want you to give up on life, so it protects you from feeling your actual age. Regardless, there is no doubt in my mind, age is both about physicality, as well as mentality. And you can really delude yourself. 

When I got home, I had to immediately run to the bathroom as the coffee was having its typical effect on my bladder.  I am 62 after all!  As I washed my hands, I looked in the mirror before me and really began to think.  I looked at the bags under my eyes, my grey hair, a wrinkle here and there.  The closer to the mirror I got the worse it became.  It dawned on me that I really do look 62 years old!  Maybe even a little older. But I also simultaneously concluded, what could I do about it?  Not a damn thing!  One fact is certain, there is no fountain of youth.  No matter how fat, or how fit I get, or clothes I wear or the car I drive, at this age the sands of time have taken their toll. No matter what your mind tells you.  With that, my youthful illusion truly burst. 

Yet with that thought, I resolved to be my age and be happy with it. It’s not always a joy to get old but it is certainly a privilege.  And by the way, I don’t have to act 62, or any particular age for that matter.  I just have to be content with it. And realize that when you are young, you challenge your limits physically, and when you’re older you recognize your limits. If you’re smart anyway.  I think that is THE important fact.  And that, my friends, may be the true secret to staying young. Staying out of harm’s way.  Take care of yourself.  And don’t forget to find a thirty-something woman and have a child.  Or not!