Aging Out
I am finding myself using that term, aging out, more and more often these days. The term requires no definition as it is pretty self-explanatory, it simply means that you are getting too old to do something that you have done for a long time and that you presumably like to do, but can no longer do either easily or in a way that you prefer. It can also mean that you are tired of doing it and just want to stop. The most obvious example of aging out surrounds work, and it is called retirement. We generally retire after about forty years of working, although increased longevity is pushing that closer and closer to fifty years by necessity. The French are the current poster children of that issue as they have lagged behind the worldwide trend to push retirement age out to match increasing longevity. They have successfully pushed retirement age for men from 62 to 64, still lagging countries like the U.S. where retirement age hovers between 66 and 67, and even lagging the rest of the EU by about a year. It is also noteworthy that France has eliminated any differential between men and women in terms of retirement age though across the world there remains a lingering disparity that tends to favor women (assuming you consider retiring early to be favorable).
But retirement is such a big issue globally and I have become somewhat of an expert in the field given that I published a book on the subject ten years ago, that I don’t really want to write about aging out in terms of work. That is too fraught with economic implications and devolves quickly into a horrible view of the future where choices must be made between the welfare of our children and the sustenance of our elders. The human race is not so different from the ants and the grasshoppers in that there are some who are compulsive worriers, planners and savers and others who prefer to live in the moment and let the future take care of itself. Suffice it to say that the social and economic ramifications of those tendencies make for fascinating stories of the human soul under duress and while there is plenty of psychology attached to all of that, the cerebral part of the equation gets quickly overwhelmed by the brain stem or primordial part that focuses on basic survival. That would be survival of one’s self and survival of one’s species, when it comes right down to it.
But there are many other forms of aging out that are on my mind this morning. For perhaps the first time in my life, I am finding a milestone of aging to be rather significant to me. I breezed through turning 30, 40, 50 and even 60 without a thought, but this year I am turning 70 and while I am not in any way morbid about it or trying to deny it, I am very aware of it and thinking about its implications more than ever before. After three years of retirement (coinciding pretty precisely with the timing definition for my cohort as established by the Social Security Administration…less by design or necessity, and more by happenstance), I need to report on my progress. To begin with, I have continued to work somewhat. Between teaching and expert witness work, I have maintained some form of structure to my time management and have some obligations that still anchor me. I say anchor rather than bind in that I choose to do this work and do not yet feel constrained by it enough to be compelled to unshackle myself. My retirement timing coincided with the pandemic, which made remote work a norm and, as such, smoothed some of the transition to a more flexible work environment for many of us. To some, the only thing they don’t like about work is the need to do it either in a place they don’t like so much or in clothes that they don’t like so much. Working from home solves much of that for most people, and certainly makes it easier for me.
In theory, the added flexibility of not punching a clock or having to be somewhere for 40+ hours per week should leave more time for doing the things we would like to do. However, that is more of a moveable feast than we tend to think. What we dream about doing with our increased free time and what we actually do when it is available to us in abundance are very different things. Symbolically speaking, my love of motorcycling is all about freedom. The open road beckons, right? But not so fast Abernathy, motorcycle riding is less unconstrained than you might think. To begin with, you really do have to gear-up from head to toe, so it takes some forethought. When its cold out you have to decide how pleasant a ride will be and how chilled or stiffened you might get. When its hot, you wonder why you are not in an air conditioned car in shorts rather than inside a sweaty helmet getting bugs in your teeth and trying to find apparel that is both protective and yet still aerating. But even when the weather is just right, freedom needs to either be done alone or en masse and the later involves some degree of constraint to that very freedom you are seeking. Motorcycling takes more physical exertion than most non-riders assume. Muscling around a 600-pound motorcycle on aging joints and sore muscles is more demanding than not. It may not be as cardiovascular as bicycle touring, but its a damn sight more tiring than tooling around in the Mercedes. People in my motorcycle group age out all the time and it is most often a result of the realization that reaction times are something that definitely decline with age and synaptic deterioration. There comes a time for most of us when we just think that the cost-benefit of motorcycling has past its sell-by date. Luckily for me, I have not come to that point and I still very much enjoy riding and feel I am up to it in all ways except one.
After 28+ years of leading group motorcycle tours with my gang of friends, I have decided that the hassles of that activity are best left in the rear view mirror. After canceling our trip to Morocco for this fall, some of the guys have decided to put together an Arizona ride in June and they were nice enough to include me even though I am the cause of the Morocco cancellation. It took me no time to decide that I will go on the week-long ride in the heat of the summer desert in Arizona. In fact, since I sold my trailer this year, I will do the whole ride including the slab from here to Phoenix, so it will be a ride+ sort of ride. I have not aged out of motorcycling yet.
The other half of that Morocco cancellation is about foreign travel, making me wonder if domestic travel is so very far behind. My brother-in-law was a career helicopter pilot in the Navy, doing several tours of duty as a rescue pilot in Antarctica (so not a travel-shy kinda guy) and he is 82 this year and getting an escort from his sons to travel east for a memorial service. Even domestic travel becomes an aging out issue at some point. But for the moment, we are still on the foreign and domestic travel roster. We may have peeled off foreign motorcycle travel from the veneer of who we are (at least for 2023…never say never), but apparently we have not aged out of domestic motorcycle travel. Now we are looking at other foreign travel to both Europe in the fall and perhaps Asia in the early part of 2024. We have entered the aging out process in terms of travel, not because we are prepared to not go just yet, but because we are prepared to discuss the possibility of not going some time in the future. That’s the thing about aging out, you have to toy with it before you let it take hold of you. Once you have gotten used to the snake, its biting you and giving you that terminal venom seems to bother you less and you lie down to its consequences with more acceptance. The secret to aging out seems to be getting used to the idea and then embracing it by finding other enjoyments to fill the void.