Looking Closely
Sixty-one years old and one heart attack under my belt. It fuels some interesting thinking. Ten years ago when I was still invincible (and my riding jacket was still bright yellow) I was already drawn toward thoughts of mortality as I photographed my life, the people in it, and some of the icons of finality. I’ve always been curious about what’s over the next hill. Seems appropriate that curiosity would endure thoughts about longevity — how long can I ride?
I’m not sure if a person reaches a certain point where they begin doing longevity math but the equations aren’t simple and the factors considered aren’t consistent. My grandfather had a heart attack in the 1950s when he was my age and then lived healthy and at home another 33 years. My mother died just a few years older than I am now from a rare disease. And my father from lung cancer at 76 though he was a heavy smoker most of his life, worked in a coal mine before moving on to a mill that worked with molten steel — something that generates a lot of great stuff to breathe.
Mental measuring of longevity is, at best, a fool’s errand and merely another way to rob the present with fears of the future. Still, it occupies my thoughts from time to time.
What may be more important is the waking dreams of life down the road.
How do I see myself in ten years?
Old Man and a Vespa
It slowly comes into focus, an image of an old man on a scooter, moving smoothly along a forest road, his hands gives a slight squeeze to the hand grips and a smile grows on his face. In the distance a granddaughter waves, wondering what treat the old man brought this time.
When I ride I can feel the flight of spirit and I squeeze the grips to hold onto the world. At 61, I hope I can stay close to that feeling for a long time and my body stays nimble enough to manage the scooter and my mind sharp enough to stay safe. And be able to hang out with my granddaughter long enough to warn her about boys and to not let anyone stand in the way of her dreams.
That would be a good ride.
Like a Good Dog
How long can I ride? Only God knows. But like a good dog I’ll keep getting up every morning and make the most of what life has to offer. Like Junior, who hopes he’ll get to chase some tennis balls and go for a walk, I’m going to hope I can keep riding. I’ll ride until I can’t.
That’s the view from 61. I’ll check back in ten years and see how things are working out.
What’s your view of the road ahead?
I’m just a little bit behind you and I have occasionally wondered the same thing. I know a number of folks well in the 70s and at least one in their 80s that still ride. The 81 year old, still rides his sidecar rig when he wants to bring the dog but still gets out his V-Rod when he wants to cover some ground. So there’s hope.
The more I raise the subject the more stories are shared. There is hope. Riding a V-Rod at any age is work! 🙂
Again with my Dad. At my age he had a triple bypass and started taking Cholesterol medication. Just last year, at 88, he had to have a stent implanted for one significant blockage. As I sat, at 89, he’s still riding and not on a scooter. His cool blue Kawasaki ZR-750 is proudly gleaming in his garage awaiting another season of use. So far he has outlived all Zeisers in memory and maybe all in the family history. Medical Science at work.
A little brag here. Next week they will be on the Today show as a long time Married couple. He and Mom have weathered 68 years and seven children. Maybe we’re the reason they’re both still so robust for their age.
Pass on my congratulations to your parents — 68 years of marriage is a huge accomplishment. And thanks for sharing about your dad’s travels after the bypass. I hope I can’t find a similar road.
Yep. Heart troubles certainly do lead one to think about one’s future in a way in which it hadn’t been thought about before. I find myself wanting to ride more since the big visit to the hospital in September, as if I’m gambling against time for as much as I can get while I can get it. Trouble is, I can’t do that too with eating t-bones and big chunks of lobster swimming in butter now.
I’ve been thinking about all of this stuff before the heart attack. Perhaps it’s more focused now. There are questions that I have left unattended for a long time.
T-bones. Since my heart attack I’ve really reduced my saturated fat intake. In 8 months I’ve had two cheeseburgers, two hot dogs, a few slices of pizza and a half dozen little prime rib sandwiches. And lots of lean chicken, turkey and a little salmon. Compared to how I used to eat it’s like I’m in a fat desert.
Take care of yourself Joe. I’m told the body is less and less forgiving…
I am 69 and also had a heart attack -12 years ago,and everything is fine then told I have High Blood Pressure and other problems.I take about 22 pills a day.I have not been able to ride the past 9 months due to a “stupid” fall and tore my quads from my knee and go Monday back to Surgeon to get the go ahead to get Physo .Once finished will be back riding this Spring.Fired up both scooters this week and all is well with the machines.Doing everything I am told in order to get out there a ride!!
Thanks for sharing about your medical adventures. I hope things smooth out for you and you get back on the scooters. The warm spring weather is drawing near. Like you, I’m trying to do everything I’m told.
A moving, poetic look at mortality. Thanks for writing and sharing.
Thank you Marian. I appreciate your kind words.
Well, Steve, I’m really pushing eighty years today, and expect to go at least five more years before I hang the keys up. The biggest problem is one of not knowing what medical or traffic induced problem will result in my demise or disability…and I think I much prefer death to anything that would force me to just be a spectator long term or permanently. Modern medical practice can go only so far to correct problems, and that’s fine with me. My dad passed at almost eighty-nine and my mom at almost ninety-two, so it’s my thought that the natural route for me is in the eighty-five to ninety year range. Until then, I’m keeping on keeping on dealing with my fleet of scooters and really feeling alive when scootering…just keep on until you no longer can or are enjoying it…it’s really worth it. Good luck with your situations.
Thanks Karl for sharing your story and insight. You’re right about medical practice only able to go so far. Like you I’m going to try and just keep riding a day at a time until I can’t. It remains a wonderful gift in my life and can still have my spirit soaring and feeling alive too. It is worth it!
I am 60. Riding makes me feel young. I simply love it. The day I understand that I can’t ride any more will be a very sad one indeed.
I have many friends in their 70’s and 80’s who continue to ride. I hope both you and I can do the same.
It will be a sad day when I have to hang up the keys. No one better try and take them prematurely!
I tend to go through life obliviously but my stay in the local hospital for ulcerative colitis & relative lack of success in treatment has me thinking of long term ramifications that include a colostomy bag and colon cancer. Most men of the previous generations have easily made it into their late 80’s or beyond with little in the way of long term heath issues. My fathers brother just cracked 80 and is still riding dirt, ADV, and touring, in spite of some long term bad habits.
My main concerns have been who will be around to take care of my daughter who is also my riding partner & is developmentally delayed.
Life can keep handing us challenges and it appears you have yours too. I like to think that they give us the opportunity to live stronger though when I get into the details it’s sometimes hard to see that in play. I hope you find the right road for yourself and your family. Thanks for sharing and best wishes.
The problem is when you let your head (“Hey, I’m 66 and getting too old for this.”) override your heart (“Isn’t being 39 wonderful?”). I sometimes think the same thoughts, especially when this or that part hurts, but once back on the bike I’m 39 again. And hope to be so for many years to come.
Yes sir — back on the bike, or scooter, and everything is ok!
I understand your feelings and thoughts. At my age my father died of the same thing for which I had a procedure done yesterday. As for “how long can I ride,” they make 3 wheeled scooter kits you know!
Robert. Hope things are going well for you after the procedure. Each time we talk I feel like you just keep on going no matter what rough road you’re facing. It’s inspiring.
Good question. We’re pretty close to the same age, which must inspire such thoughts. Can’t say I would have given it much thought 10 years ago. So much depends on your state of health, really. Let’s hope we can keep on going for at least a couple of decades.
I was a little surprised last year when I organized a ride back here in Wisconsin. Among the responses was another MVer who was coming. Turns out he was in his ’80s and not sure he was going to trailer up or ride the 4 hours to the meetup. As I was thinking about that, he tells me he prefers to camp and wanted to know if there was a campground nearby. Yikes-I’d pretty much stopped camping 15 years ago as I refused to go beyond a tent. He’s planning on being back this year..and Amerivespa. Glad to know guys like this-they help answer that question.
You’re right that circumstance changes the tendency to think about such things. And along those lines I start looking for hopeful examples of the road ahead. Someday I might get to Amerivespa. Hopefully before I’m in my 80s. And maybe a Canonball…
My two touring buddies are 73 and 82 and both ride like they’re still in their 20’s. Being in my early 60’s like you, we’ve got 3 generations covered. We’re all looking forward to many more road years!
Your thoughtful musings make my day Steve. I’m mostly a lurker but felt to comment this morning after reading this one.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts Greg. Sorry for taking so long to respond.
I’ll be happy if I can keep riding just like I am now. Time will tell.
I’ll ride until I can’t, too. If riding kills me, tomorrow or in 30 years, I will have died while doing something that makes me very happy.
I used to think women in my family all lived long lives. My great grandmother died in her mid-90s. My grandmother was 94 when she passed. But then my mother died before her time, also thanks to a rare disease (scleroderma). Her sister died before her time, too, from cancer. One never knows.
Like you, I think I’ll just be a good dog, too.
As someone commented, there are no guarantees in life. So I guess we just make our choices today and move on. I’ll keep riding until I can’t as well.
Steve I am sure you’ve decades of riding ahead of you…I am following up behind you in terms of years and plan to be doing this for quite a while.
Though, keep the heart attack count at just one, OK?
The Old Man and the Vespa…..I like that paraphrasing…..I may copy it in a future blog post if you don’t mind.
As to Emma, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re the one who introduces her to the joys of riding ….
Feel free to use anything you want from Scooter in the Sticks Dom.
I am working to keep the heart attack to one though I had a conversation with a friend today, younger than me, who told me the stress of his job and life was causing him to need to take some nitroglycerin tablets. He said the doctor told him stress could cause inflammation which could be leading to his chest pains. So it reminded me to take things easy and not get wound up.
I think my daughter and her husband might throw some roadblocks up in terms of riding and my granddaughter. I’ll be an old coot by the time she could get a motorcycle license.
At least you’re not missing parts of your anatomy. I don’t think I have 10 years left, honestly. Between the health issues I already have, and the ones I can look forward to based on the gene pool I swam in, I just hope I don’t end up like many of the residents of the nursing home where I spent most of 2015… utterly unable to care for my myself in any way whatsoever, “life” consisting of respiration and pulse, nothing more. It is considered loving and humane to euthanize a suffering pet, yet I don’t have that option when the quality of my life reaches the same point…
You never know Orin. Even though you’ve had a raw deal up to now I knew some fellows that were friends of my father that lost body parts due to diabetes in their fifties and lived another forty years. One drove a truck for a living until he retired. I suppose the lesson of all of this gloomy talk is that life is a mystery, we have no idea what will happen, and we were put on the earth to make the most of each day, not worry about what might happen tomorrow.
Maybe I’m telling that to myself. Sorry for preaching.
Hope things go well for you Orin.
Steve, as someone who has already faced the decision and made the decision to quit riding, all I can say is that you’ll know when it is time.
For me the decision was not based upon my desire to continue riding as much as it was whether I felt that I could ride competently and safely. And my definition of competence was based upon a pretty high standard. In other words, I felt that if I wasn’t confident in my ability to ride with a high degree of competence, then maybe I was becoming a danger to myself and others.
I don’t regret the decision, but just today I saw a rider on a scooter on a nice sunny day and thought….. , well you know.
Jim
Jim,
I had to go back to your blog and read your signing off post. As others their commented it was hard not to feel sad. In part for you but also because we see ourselves in that post. I like to think I’ll take it as well as you and move on to the next adventure whatever that is.
I realize how fragile we all are. When I hurt my back a couple months ago I thought that was the end — more so than the heart attack because I physically could not manage getting my shoes on let alone ride a scooter. And like you I don’t want to ride if I can’t do it right. I like to think I won’t employ a lot of denial when the time comes.
Thanks for stopping by and sharing your thoughts here. I’m sure a lot of people appreciate your decision and what it means. Let’s hope seeing a scooter go by on a sunny day brings a smile!
You are overthinking.. life gives no promises…
Since I was 15 ( I am now 51), through all of life’s uncertainty and trials , I have done this- when, no, IF, I wake up in the morning, I ask myself, ” Can I ride today?”.. The answer will present itself.
Your friend, Mac
Overthinking — I’m not accused of that very often! But these questions have lingered. Life gives no promises. I need to remember that.
Most mornings I wake now and ask “Should I ride today?”. Hopefully the “can” questions hold off for awhile yet.
If we ran conversationally down every road tangent to the topic of longevity and fate; well that could take several bottles of wine or a dedicated morning or three at the local coffee shop. And I would indeed love that. But distilling to just a few thoughts: On longevity and health two thoughts raise their heads saying: ” One knows the healthy eating habits, sometimes it takes an oncologist’s diagnosis to push us toward the vegetable isle”. And from J Fixx’s 1977 treatise on running there comes the chapter titled “The worlds sickest running club” referring to the cardiologists over the years, that have prompted their post-op patients to engage in some vigorous activity to escape the looming angina of a sedentary, fearful lifestyle. My earliest childhood memory is of visiting my father in the cardiac ward. He was one of the first open heart surgery patients, prompting my desire to not resign myself to the fate that would haunt and claim the males in my family. The search began. Thankfully there is the moderation of purpose that rules the day in diet as well as exercise . One needn’t avoid all the pleasures of the culinary arts. And one doesn’t need to become a marathoner. But it is required to pay the piper to continue to dance to the tunes ( apologies for the cliche). Perhaps jogging to the salad bar and back home? On the topic of fate; my sentiment is that serendipity has always offered me more pleasant surprises than I could ever have engineered in my 65 years. Stress (and I believe I interpret that quite a bit comes from attempting to have “control” of our lives and the discovery that we really have very little) is one of five elements in the study of patients that have health outcomes far better than the average population; Stress, adequate sleep, exercise, sensible diet and avoidance of the smoking habit provide a decent chance that we march on with life in our days as well as days in our life ( but cliches are so addicting). But strangely enough the study shows that one missing element from those five does not ensure 80% effectiveness, instead we drop back with the rest of the population that ignores those suggestions. I admire the philosophy of “being like water- flowing around the obstacles in our lives” not forcing our way. Then, when the barista brings another latte, we can talk about meditation. And the zen value of “Shopcraft As SoleCraft”. I did love adjusting the valves on my beemers, but really, why not hydraulic lifters( we’re redlined @ 75000rpm)? And Desmos- that only evolved ’cause they didn’t have they metallurgical magic of the present day. Think I’ve over-caffined.
Thanks for doing what you do. Your contribution to the inbox is always a pleasant addition.
Thank you T for your thoughtful response. It would be nice to sit down at a coffee shop and talk about these things.
I’m trying to find a reasonable balance regarding diet, exercise, stress, sleep and living. I want to keep dancing but don’t want to become a slave to the piper. The thought of not taking care of just one of them reducing overall effectiveness is just, well, scary. Sleep is the biggest challenge for me. Damn.
I saw a review of Shopcraft As SoleCraft when it first came out and always meant to read it. You’re reminder her may get me moving in that direction.
Thanks again for sharing. You’ve given me some important stuff to think about. Especially “80%”.
I think about my riding future a lot, possibly more than my other ‘futures’. There’s no question of how long I’m hoping for but too many of those around me are good reminders to take advantage of what I’ve got while it’s here.
Keep it going Steve.
I suppose the amount of thinking about a riding future is in part a reflection of the importance and joy it imparts to the rider. I love it.
I’ll keep writing and riding and taking pictures until I have to stop. Not sure which one will go first…