Four Score and Twelve

Every birthday is a milestone, but somehow ninety-two seems to have been an extra special one for me. When I was born, conventional wisdom suggested that I would be fortunate to achieve the anticipated life span of “three score and ten”, and here I am the happy recipient of twenty-two bonus years! It is very easy for me to realize that every additional day I live is a special gift.

This realization brings with it a profound sense of gratitude ranging from the tiniest mundane example to much grander ones, from the sound of my mantle clock tolling the hours to the wonder of life itself. I am grateful for having been born in a country and society that somehow still seems to be headed the right direction, at a time when technological progress was producing unheard-of material benefits for all of us.

I was born into a loving family and was fortunate to grow up in our own version of Mayberry. I received an excellent education in my chosen field – Civil Engineering – at Penn State and Carnegie Mellon. By some miracle, I met the right person at the right time and began a wonderful married life that ended far too soon after fifty-two years, a life that produced three fine children and five exceptional grand-children. I had a rewarding career as an engineer with the Dravo Corporation, followed by an equally rewarding career as a teacher at Pitt.

The accumulation of experiences during a lifetime spanning ninety-two years, coupled with carefully cultivated judgment is expected to produce wisdom. More primitive societies than ours respected nonagenarians as a source of wisdom; today the prominence of Alzheimer’s syndrome and senility have virtually reversed that trend. Nonetheless, I am old-fashioned enough to pretend that my “take” on things is of some value to my younger colleagues.

I wish we all were more “moderate” than we claim to be. One of my greatest blessings is having numerous friends. Last Wednesday I had the pleasure of spending quality time with two different groups. In the morning I had brunch with our Bridgeville High School Alumni group, nine of us. That evening it was my turn to host our eight-person Book Review Club. It would be difficult to imagine two more dissimilar groups of adult men. Politically I am far to the right of the Book Club gang and far to the left of the brunch crew. Both groups consider me an outsider. That certainly qualifies me as a moderate (fence-straddler?).

In recent years I have tried hard to mend my ways and become tolerant and forgiving. This is much easier to do if I can control my natural tendency to make snap judgments and act reflexively, instead of taking the time to gather my thoughts before commenting on controversial topics. I certainly have learned to accept some forms of social behavior that were forbidden in my youth, but I still struggle with things like excessive tattoos and body piercing. This is further complicated by the fact that basic truths have changed so dramatically in my lifetime. When I was young, gambling was a sin and cigarette smoking was the “in thing”. Today, smoking is virtually illegal, and our government promotes gambling with advertisements paid for by taxes.

Perhaps the most striking thing I’ve learned in my nine-plus decades is the contrast between the negative state of the world and the joyful, positive life I have enjoyed despite it. I was born in the depths of the Great Depression; witnessed World War II and four smaller ones; and have been shocked by political scandals, the horror of 9/11, and fear of the Pandemic; nonetheless my personal experiences have been joyful and positive – my glass has always been half-full of delightful beverages.

In my declining years my calendar is filled with a marvelous collection of not-to-be-missed events. I look forward eagerly to brunches with my BHS friends, Friday lunches with Larry Kennedy studying “Ulysses”, the new Pittsburgh Symphony season, monthly Book Review Club meetings, lunches with my Dravo friends, mentoring a Senior Design team at Pitt, and many visits to the Bridgeville Area Historical Society, not to mention quality time with my family. And then there are all the things I do alone that I enjoy so much – watching the seasons change in our woods, pen-and-ink sketching, writing this column, reading, listening to “Saturday Night Swing Session”, and loafing in my easy chair watching a fire in the fireplace.

The world’s problems today are considerable. My children wish I were more concerned about climate change. It certainly warrants concern, but I worry more about other things. The population explosion is foremost on my list – the world’s population has doubled twice in my lifetime! Many of our problems are the direct result of its reaching eight billion. Next come three related problems – energy, water, and food. We desperately need a practical plan to address the perceived necessity to replace the production of electricity from fossil fuels with alternative sources.

If I truly were a male version of the Oracle of Delphi, and you overcame all manner of obstacles to find your way to my abode atop some mountain, seeking wisdom, I would probably fall back on the old bromide, “Bad things are never as bad as they seem, nor are good things as good as they seem”. And add, “Try to understand your adversary’s position, especially if you think she’s an extremist.”

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