What the actual fuck? I’m 64. How the hell did I get here? How did I survive all the dumbass decisions I’ve made and haven’t died? I really have no clue.

It’s been a helluva ride. Trust me, I’m not complaining. I’ve retired from working full time and now spend a great portion of everyday playing as if I were a teenager again – baseball, golf, pickleball, Orangetheory Fitness. I quit working and I quit shaving. I have the most beautiful white beard. I’m not “Santa,” I’m “Charlie” Claus! It’s truly glorious.

No one reads this journal. I stepped away 3 years ago because I literally had nothing further to say. Now that I’m retired, thoughts flood my brain but probably don’t interest anyone when I let them out. So, tonight is somewhat of an exception. I hope you enjoy this…

Perhaps it’s the Ninkasi IPA talking. I love this beer and the more I drink it to satisfy my thirst, more thoughts pop into my head. Are you OK with me sharing all of this nonsense? I hope so. Here goes.

It’s hard to believe I’m 64. The Beatles song “When I’m Sixty-Four” is apropros here. It really is. My wife of 40 years needs me, still feeds me, and still loves me. Thanks be to God! We didn’t have kids so, this seems like almost a right of passage – senior citizenship. I’m spending my savings and it feels so good!

The years have seemingly flown by. I’ve lived in LA, Santa Cruz, Montara, El Granada, Redding, Alameda, Norwood, Seal Beach, Long Beach, Beaverton, and finally Portland, Oregon. Have I made an impression on anyone along this journey? Favorably? Unfavorably? What the hell have I actually done? I guess I’ll never really know. I just can’t remember shit and my muscles ache.

So here I am. Three beers in with no clue on what I’ve done, who I’ve influenced, why I’m here or what I’m supposed to do next. These are the supposed “go-go” years of my life. As long as I can maintain my health and keep playing the sports I so enjoy everyday, I’ll be good. I just can’t seem to come to grips with how the years have seemingly flown by and why I’m still not 30 years old, with the same vim and vigor I used to have. My hair was a beautiful auburn color. Now, it’s whiter than snow.

I do hope the friends and family I’ve wronged forgive me. I hope the people I’ve met and somehow positively influenced remember me. I’ve tried to live a good life. I’ve tried to be a good guy. Gosh, I sure hope I’m perceived well. Realistically, I know that’s not true for everyone whom I’ve cross paths with.

I’ve done the best I could. I survived into my 60’s. Considering all I’ve been through, that’s not too shabby. I hope my luck continues for another couple of decades, at least. I’ll continue to get vaccinated. I’ll continue to try and take care of myself. I’ll volunteer. I’ll drink IPA. I’ll drink wine. I’ll pray to God. I’ll love my wife, who will hopefully need me and feed me when I’m 74.