Although it seems a bit early to me, articles are now appearing, at least in the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, about the Kennedy assassination, now some sixty years ago if you can believe that. It boggles my mind that so much of our population was not alive then, doesn’t remember the date or the event. They vaguely know about it from history classes if it’s not something that’s been censored. For me, that terrible weekend is still too raw a memory. I don’t want to read the recollections of journalists who were there, the stories about people who knew Lee Harvey Oswald, on the spot reports from the hospital about Kennedy’s medical condition. I remember too well driving down the main street of Kirksville, MO, on my way back to my office after lunch. The local radio station seemed to have lost it—the guys on the mic fumbled and mumbled, there was much shuffling of papers, and I, who did an occasional interview at the station, was thoroughly impatient with their incompetence—until I heard what was upsetting them. I went back to my office and told my boss, who immediately thought only of the president of the osteopathic college where we both worked.
That was the beginning of a
long, dark weekend. Another of my vivid memories is my brother calling on
Sunday morning to say tersely, “You better turn on your TV.” Lee Harvey Oswald
had just been shot by Jack Ruby. I don’t remember doing anything else those few
days besides watching TV.
When my then-husband and I
moved to Texas, I brought with me memories of that weekend. The first time we
went to Dallas and would drive by the site of the assassination, I almost had
an anxiety attack. I didn’t think I could bear to see it. No, the memories are
still strong, and I don’t want to read more about it, but I wonder if the
nation would react today as it did then. Gun violence was a rare thing in the
1960s. Have we now become so indifferent to it, to patriotism, to true loyalty
to our country (and not the faux patriotism of Christian nationalists) that we
would shrug it off? I hope not. This year, the anniversary of the assassination
falls on Thanksgiving Day. Will we give thanks for the example that JFK set for
us, for his vision of Camelot? I hope so.
I have a new goal: I want to
be a super-ager. With ageism so strong across our nation, it’s comforting to
know that researchers have identified people over eighty whose cognitive powers
remain at least thirty years younger. They are people who live an active life,
continually challenging themselves mentally as well as physically; they are surrounded
by people, and they indulge in some of life’s pleasures. So, no, isolating
yourself and swearing off drink and rich foods isn’t necessarily the key to
staying young. Apparently the big key is mental activity—learn to play a
musical instrument or speak a new language. I’m wondering if improving my
computer skills might quality.
Are super-agers born that way,
influenced by genetics, or are there things you can do to achieve that status?
Apparently both. We’ve all heard that working crossword puzzles can keep your
brain active. So can other word games and puzzles, taking online or in-person
classes, learning a new craft-want to take up crocheting? Go for it.
I have a friend who is on the
plus side of eighty, a prolific writer with many novels to her credit. She has
decided she’s through with long projects and had created a whole new outlet for
herself on Substack, the online platform for writers. It’s not just a matter of
saying, “Okay, now I want to write on Substack.” It involves learning how to
increase your audience, how to use Substack’s tools to further your reach, how
to plan and schedule your entries, how to interact with other writers on the
platform.
My son-in-law, Brandon, is
writing country western music (he’s far too young to be a super-ager) and has
had one song included on an artist’s album. So when I talked to him about lyrics
(I understand words if not the music), he said we must write a song together
when the family gathers for Christmas. A whole new challenge for me, and I’m excited
about it.
One bit of advice sometimes
given to the aging is, “Get ready to be uncomfortable.” Uncomfortable as you
stretch and reach to learn new things and keep your brain active. As I look around
me, I realize that’s what the most interesting people I know are doing. Maybe
even cooking a new recipe counts. Ya’ think?
The boys—Christian, Jacob, and
several of Jacob’s friends, are off at the U. of Arkansas for a football
weekend. So Jordan and I had a delightful happy hour with neighbors Jaimie and
Gregg tonight with bountiful snacks, except I didn’t think my crab dip was a
success. I need to taste it tomorrow, but my impression was too much lemon, and
I maybe should give up substituting faux crab (Krab) for the real thing. It
just wasn’t right. I guess even aspiring super-agers are entitled to a cooking
fail or two.
Happy weekend!
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