Wayne Johnson just celebrated his 60th birthday and is ready to pass on all the life lessons he has learned along the way.
If only he could remember them.
Thanks for the reminders that I have reached my 60th birthday. You probably assumed that I forgot, which is only natural. When I was young (yesterday), people who turned 60 were considered old. Now I know better. Sixty isn’t old, it’s Devonian-era. From my ancient forest tree-crib, I watched the first amphibians try to crawl out of the primordial ooze without legs or lungs. Now I’d tell them not to bother. They’ll just break a hip.
If young people ever figure out what 60 really means, baby boomers will disappear even more quickly. Every ice floe will be booked solid for the traditional one-way ride to oblivion. Luckily the young are usually too busy hunting and gathering to notice the elderly goofing off in the lodge. But they’re beginning to catch on. Sometimes they get mad and refuse to share their buffalo kills just because we were too sleepy to join them on the hunt. “Let us gnaw on a hoof,” we beg. “You’re going to throw it out anyway.” That’s when they call us awful names that we’re too deaf to hear.
It’s too bad I waited so long to realize that old people are useless. In my youth (feel free to tune out here), the elderly conned us into believing they were wise and useful, and that their experience was more valuable than our ridiculous exuberance and new ideas. “Hold on there young feller,” they’d say with a knowing chuckle and an annoying eye-twinkle. “Using electricity might seem like a better way to grind wheat, but let’s wait another 50 years to make sure. Just put your back into it while I go take a nap.” Boy was I tempted to give them a sarcastic eye roll when they pulled that crap. Now it’s too late. They’re up in Old Folks Heaven, boring Jesus with stories he already knows.
There’s something else you need to know about 60-year-olds. Unfortunately, I’ve forgotten what it is. Also, my shows are on. So if you can spare a bowl of hoof soup, please leave it on the porch. But stay off the lawn; I just vacuumed it.
—Photo Will Clayton/Flickr