Ah, those golden years!

By Jack Krayenhoff

You may think I am going to be ironic or even bitter talking about those Golden Years, and of course it is true nobody likes facing hip replacements, or forgetting new people's names in one week and their faces in two, and certainly nobody likes having to spend his evenings all alone. But hey, that's not the whole story! Let us look and see what good things we can tell that upcoming wave of retiring baby boomers they can look forward to.

For me, the number one advantage of old age: it's restful. No more pressure, no more time constraints. I used to be an impatient driver. Was the left lane moving slower than the right? Quick - squeeze into that hole that just opened up in the right lane because some old geezer wasn't keeping up. But now I see a city bus somewhere ahead - that's going to be worse, with all the stops. Turn on my turn signal and hope somebody will make room for me in the left lane again.

But that's all in the past now. I'm not in a hurry anymore, I can afford to take my time. Is my lane not moving? That's OK, there is a good program on the radio, I will eventually get there. Somebody behind me honking his horn because I did not start moving immediately when the light turned green? Well, I've now earned the right to drive like an old geezer, haven't I? I am one myself now.

Life has become so relaxing, I know I am increasing my life expectancy by six months for every year I unhurriedly saunter through it.

Another reason for that restfulness is that everybody knows they can't expect anything from you any more. Formerly, when the committee needed a new chairman, they would look at me: 'How about you, Jack?' Well, I certainly did not need that extra pressure, but hey - if I did not take it on, who would? And if I refused, I would feel guilty. So: 'OK, I'll do it'.

But now? When the committee needs a new chairman, they will look at me and think: 'Jack is getting on a bit. Better ask somebody else'. And I think: 'OK, no skin off my nose. Besides, the world would not come to an end without that committee'.

The greatest icon of this wonderful new life for me personally is the bedroom telephone. I have to explain here that I used to be a general practitioner, and that in the days before the Emergency Room Physician had evolved, or the phone number 911 existed. The g.p. was IT, 24 hours a day. Therefore a telephone was needed in the bedroom, on my bedside table, and the older I got, the more it became a tool of terror. One time it rang at three o'clock in the morning, with a woman who said she suffered from terrible insomnia, and could I come over bring her something?

Going to bed on the first night of my retirement, I looked at that phone with a grand sense of mixed gratitude and satisfaction, and said to it, "Tonight you will be absolutely quiet. A-b-s-o-l-u-t-e-l-y." Even now, more than fifteen years later, a little of that wonderful peace still touches me when I look at that telephone before I turn off the light.

And those, dear baby boomer, are only a few of the big improvements that are awaiting you in the near future. There are many, many more. Do you want me to tell you?