Day 29: Embrace the season

02/05/2018

Day 29

Task—Write what you know

After Peyton Manning’s final Super Bowl win in 2016, it seemed as if everyone had an opinion about whether he should retire. The consensus among the people discussing it in my corner of the world was that it was time for Manning to go while he could still maintain the illusion he was going out on top. People in the “Manning should go camp” tended to argue his athleticism had seriously declined from neck surgeries and age, and he was clearly not the Manning everyone feared from his years with the Colts. They worried it would start to get sad if he stayed in the game too long. This seems like a recurrent argument in sports. I remember arguments about this topic involving Brett Favre, Roger Clemens, Nolan Ryan, and people are already starting to ask if Tom Brady ought to exit stage right. For some reason, people in our culture want to set the greats aside when their age starts to show, to put them behind glass in a museum where we can all admire their rippling muscles and ignore their wrinkles and scars and let nostalgia rein. However, It takes guts for a person to grow old in public, to show humanness and vulnerability and to accept no longer being invincible.

It’s not just an athlete-thing, we shudder at the realization of celebrities of all kinds showing their age. I really enjoy Clint Eastwood, but something happened to him between Million Dollar Baby and Gran Torino. He went from rugged, rough-around-the edges badass to awkwardly-slow old guy. And maybe I’m the only one who cringed when he was singing the song about the Gran Torino at the end, but I have to admit, I was thinking, “Oh no, we’ve lost Clint.” And it’s true, he can never be the badass again. So long, Dirty Harry, and salty secret service agent from In the Line of Fire, and forget the smoldering photographer he played in Bridges of Madison County. That stage of life is over, so we slowly (and quietly as to not frazzle the nerves of Old Clint) close the door on Eastwood and his Hollywood career. Something about watching him get older makes us uncomfortable.

Kenny Rogers is another celebrity aging before our very eyes. Speaking of eyes, his eyes were the first sign of his aging that got to me. I have stood as one of a very few in my age group who is a genuine fan of Rogers for as long as I can remember. I blame it on my mom who listened to a cassette tape of his 20 greatest hits for most of the 80s and 90s. Before I knew it, I was convinced that these were not just his 20 greatest hits; these were THE 20 greatest hits . . . EVER . . . by ANYONE! In love and unashamed, I proclaimed the ingenuity of Kenny Rogers from every soapbox, pedestal, mountaintop, I could find. When a person makes it her mission to celebrate someone with that sort of passion, people take notice. If my friends see Rogers on television unexpectedly or hear him on the radio, they reach out and let me know about it. That’s why it was so heartbreaking when he appeared on American Idol as a mentor artist post-eyelift. Several people sought me out to ask what I thought about Kenny Rogers’ new eyes. I tried to take his side because that’s the sort of fan I am, but I will admit it—I felt bad for him, even though I understood why he would do it. He’s married to a woman about 30 years younger than he is, he has twin boys who are nearly teenagers; he’s grasping at anything he can to appear younger than he is. But, at a certain point, a person must accept age. A 79-year-old man is going to have to look old. It’s biology.

But, discussing this makes me feel terrible because I must admit I feel uncomfortable observing the aging process in our celebrity heroes, too. Even I, one of Kenny’s biggest fans, think it’s time for him to put his microphone on the stand and take a seat in the audience, which is what he will do at the end of his current tour. His knees cause him so much pain he is hardly able to stand during concerts, and even his voice is showing its wear. But, I want to change my perspective as I recount all of this, too. I want to commend Kenny Rogers for staying in the game as long as he has. He can hold his head high for the career he achieved; he knew when to hold ‘em and when to fold ‘em (it was such low-hanging fruit, I had to say it). And Clint Eastwood has given us decades of good movies. Hours and hours of entertainment. I commend celebrities who have fearlessly aged in front of us; it takes guts. Aging takes courage!

It’s not too difficult to surmise why we often look away from those who are aging in the spotlight. It’s the same reason we often look away from anything. We don’t want to be reminded about what aging has done to the people we love, and we certainly don’t want to be reminded about what aging is doing to us. If these athletes with superhuman abilities lose their mojo in their advancing years, what’s going to happen to our little bits of mojo? If Clint Eastwood is going to make us feel awkward, how awkward are we going to get? If Kenny Rogers’ voice is going to sound raspy, what will our mediocre voices become? Ah, my friends, it doesn’t look pretty.

Thankfully, I have role models who have aged so gracefully before me. Wes and I had seven of eight of our grandparents in attendance at our wedding. Each of those precious people has taught Wes and me (and the rest of our families) about making the most out of life. They have taught us to keep our minds sharp with deep discussions, active reading, and crossword puzzles. They have shown us that friendships continue to thrive, marriages hold strong, and families show up for one another as years go by. They have modeled what it looks like to laugh at the silly things that happen. I feel so proud when I think of them, and I’m so happy that Beck got meet three of the eight, and Baby Girl will meet two of them—Wes’s grandpa Mort, whom we lovingly refer to as Grandpa Tex in our house, and my grandma Flo, from whom we’ve taken Baby Girl's middle name.

A phrase I have heard repeated often is “Aging is not for the faint of heart.” It isn’t, and it’s too bad that athletes feel their age when they are so young. Peyton Manning is hardly in the same boat as Clint and Kenny, and yet, he’s hung up his cleats and hasn’t said, “Omaha” in two seasons. It is the way of the world for seasons of life to come upon us. Let us embrace each season and let us revere, respect, and accept those around us in whatever season they may find themselves. And fear not as new seasons find you, you are strong, resilient and prepared for the exact season where you find yourself!