I have been thinking about this song for 51 years, ever since the Beatles released it in 1967. It stamped sixty-four into my consciousness at a time when thirty was considered over the hill. Initially, it only lurked in the recesses of my mind and took a back seat to forty-five, which was my age in the year 2000. In my teens, twenties, thirties, and early forties I would focus on how old I would be when the new millennium arrived. Somehow that event held much more significance to me. Not anymore.
The millennium came and went. It was pretty much a big ado, like every other new year, about nothing. Even the computer systems took it in stride. Now it is just a distant, and mostly faded, memory. Not surprisingly, 2019, the year in which I turn sixty-four, took the place of the millennium in my mind.
Not for much longer, though. 2019 is upon us, making me just a couple of months shy of sixty-four. It also makes the song, or at least its chorus, way more important to me. Sixty-four is a pretty insignificant age, as far as ages go. Being sixty-four means I have been able to buy movie tickets at the senior citizen price for four years. It means I have been eligible to join AARP for 14 years. That’s about it.
Thanks to Messrs. Lennon and McCartney, though, sixty-four has always been a very significant age to me, at least psychologically. It is a veritable yardstick in my mind, one I need to measure myself against. It is a symbolic gate, a gate through which only old people pass. It marks the point at which QTR no longer refers to Qualified Tuition Reduction for me or my kids, but instead refers to Quality Time Remaining. It is the age in which I may have to start taking New Year’s resolutions seriously, at least the important ones. It is the age that is forcing me to ask myself if I am still needed and relevant.
Or not.
I am a happy, boring guy. I do not want to make any significant changes in my life, though change has a way of creeping up on all of us. I am content with where I am. With all due respect to Messrs. Wiseman and Nichols, I have no interest in going Rocky Mountain climbing, skydiving, or 2.7 seconds on a bull named Fu Manchu, though a few track days in my Porsche would not be a bad idea. Most of my body parts still function. My wife, Pam, is a saint, and despite my more curmudgeon like tendencies, continues to keep me current and relevant. I have two great kids, who actually still seek my advice. I have great friends. I enjoy my work. I have hobbies. Heck, I even have a great dog.
So instead of letting the specter of sixty-four weigh on my mind any longer, I am planning to embrace it for what it is – much ado about nothing, hoping it will become as faded and distant a memory as the millennium. In essence, I plan to live like I am still sixty-three.
There is just one problem with that, though. Shelby, my older daughter, is pregnant. She is due in April. Sixty-four will now be marked indelibly in my mind as the age in which I became a grandfather, making it truly significant for me.
Happy New Year!
Harry – OMG! You nailed it. I can relate and agree with everything you said. Remember, you are older than you ever were before, but younger than you’ll ever be again. My best wishes for a terrific 2019 to you and your family. Jeff
Hi Harry,
I’m glad that you’re happy and you’re definitely not boring. Mazel tov on the upcoming commencement of grandparent hood! We look forward to seeing Pam and you in 2019!
Happy New Year!!!!
Stuart
One of my favorite Beatles songs. The light & breezy melody in sharp contrast to the “will you still need me, will you still feed me” of the chorus.
That said… You’re right to look at turning 64 as a much ado moment. Enjoy the melody and harmonies and relish the fact that the lyrics don’t apply.
Congratulations to your daughter. You’re going to be a fantastic grandpa. I mean “my grandpa has a Porsche that he uses to turn hot laps at Laguna Seca!” is amazing bragging rights for any kid.
Happy New Year!
Harry… You saved the best, and most important, comment ’til the end. As I’ve said to Pam (echoing Nancy’s sister Carolyn), “There is nothing like being a grandparent. ”
Sixty-four is nothing; I’ll be 67 in 24 days. You’re in great shape, have my wonderful ‘cuz for a wife, terrific & smart kids, an exciting hobby and more. You even have the love and respect of my sister (unless you have a hidden tattoo).
So, don’t think about 64, 67, 77 or any age in the future. You have it all and just enjoy every minute of it!
Your inner thoughts are now your outer thoughts. Its a little like converting from an “inny ” belly button to an “outie”. I said Outie Harry, not Audi!
I have a singular critique. While you describe yourself accurately, and give sweet compliments to your saintly wife, you fail to give her credit nor recall the significant events when Y2K was much ado about nothin’ but nevertheless, bringing in the new Millinium was startling and memorable. Pam picked up our kids from a party after receiving a cryptic but bad sounding phone call. She did the deed in her brand new car at 11:40 pm and one of the party goers, it turned out, had had too much to drink and puked all over everyone including Pam’s new upholstery which I think was leather. There was a passing out which involved a call to paramedics, as I vaguely recall. It was a pathetic way to start the new Millenium. But you turning 64 was only a twinkle in our eyes back then. Glad you (and all the rest of us) made it to here. And our hearty / hardy congrats to you upon joining THE BEST Club in the world, come April!! ??????????Way to go Shelb & Bry.