“Life is a hard battle anyway. If we laugh and sing a little as we fight the good fight of freedom, it makes it all go easier. I will not allow my life’s light to be determined by the darkness around me.” —Words to live by from Sojourner Truth (1797-1883)
I. That fruit fly thing is an old joke, I know. But I’m an old man, so it works for me. And it’s not a bad way to let you know that tomorrow, Feb. 28, I turn 87. So I’m throwing myself an online birthday party (this is it), and you’re invited. Forgive me if this is a bit tacky, but I lost the handbook they give old people on “Doing Birthdays with Dignity.” Plus, doing it online is cheaper than buying ice cream and cake for everyone.
In the photo, I’m wearing my favorite cap, a great conversation-starter at the gas station and grocery store. It says, “Built in the Thirties. Original & Unrestored. Some Parts Still in Working Order.” My body is not glitch- or groan- or gripe-free, but I’m grateful for basic good health, and for the docs who keep me patched up.
As for my mental health, best ask my family and friends about that. Just remember that some of them are a few fries short of a Happy Meal. My self-assessment is summed up in the words of my man, Willie Nelson: “It’s been rough and rocky traveling / But I’m finally standing upright on the ground / After taking several readings / I’m surprised to find my mind’s still fairly sound.” Having spent 50 years flying around the country to make my living, I know what Willie means.
II. As my readers know, my life—like most people’s lives—has included passages in the dark as well as long walks in the light. Keeping that mix in perspective is one of life’s challenges, but I found a way to do it early on. Growing up in the Chicago area as a fan of the hapless Cubs, I learned that life can whiplash us between hope and despair. Jack Brickhouse called the Cubs’ games for three decades. When he retired, an interviewer asked him to explain why the Cubs went 107 years without winning a World Series. “Oh hell,” said Brickhouse, “anyone can have a bad century.” That thought fills me with hope!
On a more serious note, the words of Florida Scott-Maxwell, written when she was in her late eighties, also resonate with me: “My seventies were interesting, and fairly serene, but my eighties are passionate. I grow more intense as I age. To my own surprise I burst out with hot conviction. Only a few years ago I enjoyed my tranquility; now I am so disturbed by the outer world and by human quality in general that I want to put things right, as though I still owed a debt to life.”
Like Scott-Maxwell, I’m passionate about the state of the world, and mad as hell about the way the way the MAGA regime is trashing everything in sight: truth, trust, the planet, science, the rule of law, human rights, diversity, the social safety net, their opponents, common decency, iconic federal buildings, ad nauseam. These people don’t love life, they despise it. Want a masterclass in fearing, not treasuring the booming, buzzing vitality of life itself? Sign up for MAGA.
Some say that we’ll live as long as it takes to complete the work we were sent here to do. If that’s the case, I reckon I’ll need to live to 150: I’m one of millions who feel called to help give birth to a more perfect Union so a new generation of Americans will be able to live tyranny-free. As the old saw goes, “There may be snow on the roof, but there’s a fire in the furnace,” and I intend to stoke it as long as I can.
III. Though my life on the road has come to an end, my life as a writer carries on, and I’m very grateful for that: it’s one of the things that gives me a purpose, and purpose helps keep us alive. My thanks to Substack for the platform it provides, to the gifted writers whose work I follow here, and most especially to those of you who encourage me by reading what I write, sometimes responding. I hope some of the words I post are equally encouraging to you, maybe with an idea or two, maybe with a laugh. Speaking of which, here are a couple of bon mots as party favors:
Early in the first term of our current POTUS, Jon Stewart brilliantly observed that “The presidency is supposed to age the president, not the public.” So I may be wrong about my age. Maybe I’m only 44, but American politics over the past decade has made me nearly twice that age. Who knows? In an age of “alternative facts,” it might be so.
Recently, The New Yorker ran a marvelous Calvin Tompkins piece, “Becoming a Centenarian.” Writing about how people react when they see him—surprised, perhaps, that he’s still around—he cited a new way to name the three stages of life: “Youth, Maturity, and You Look Great.” If you’re over 70, I bet you’ve heard that one!
IV. Back in the day, I taught an undergraduate course about vocational decision-making called “Where Do I Go From Here?” Folks who knew me then sometimes ask me how I’d answer that question today, short-term or long-term.
In the short term, as long as I can reason, reflect and write, I intend to keep on journeying inward and reaching out. There’s always something new to learn about myself and/or the world—something worth knowing or nurturing or cherishing and protecting. Life is an astonishing gift, and I don’t want to waste it.
In the long term, I’ve never received a memo from the other side. But I’ve always had a need to ruminate on the mystery. A few years ago, I wrote a song called “The Music Will Play On,” which I know it will. Life, praise be, does not end when our lives end. My friend and colleague Carrie Newcomer, a brilliant and generous singer-songwriter, recorded the song with some of her musician friends.You can listen here.
V. Thank you for coming to my party! As I blow out the candles on the cake, my wish is simple: May we all keep on keeping on as people in love with life who put our love into action!
NOTES: I post on Substack every Friday, as time and energy allow. Free as well as paid subscriptions will always have access to everything I post. My 10 books are HERE at Bookshop.org and HERE at Barnes & Noble. The Center for Courage & Renewal is HERE.
Happy Birthday Mr. PALMER. Your writing is a gift and a light to me. Thank you. Thanks for celebrating with us strangers.
Happy Birth Day, Parker! I so enjoy reading your Friday posts. I share them with friends…. Thank you for you…