Life is Good ... but you can't be 41 forever

Maybe other old guys can learn something from this octogenarian. Maybe as they ache and repeat themselves and tilt when they walk and wonder how others cope, they will see they are not alone. That should encourage them to head more confidently toward the finish line.

First of all, there are a lot of changes when you get to be 80. In my case, I still feel like charging ahead and living life to the hilt, but my body lags behind. My mind is out there on the playing field or on the campaign trail or circling the globe, but my skeletal structure cries out suggesting I give it a break.

I can no longer fly fish off the rocks at our house in Kennebunkport. I used to love to go out there and cast chartreuse Clousers at big striped bass or even tiny pollock. Now if I keep my feet in one place as I cast, I find that when I go to turn and move my feet, I am in grave danger of falling into the ocean. It is a balance thing. I now feel closer to the old guys who fall down and break hips. I used to race across the rocks like a surefooted gazelle. Now, no more rock climbing for me.

Down in the Dominican Republic recently I was having a grand hot shower. Suddenly I felt my foot slip. I grabbed the soap dish. I stayed upright, but in that scary moment I understood why I get so many calls these days--"Did you hear what happened to old Joe? Yep, he slipped and fell in the bath and broke a hip." It happens all the time.

No question about it, balance at 80 offers great challenges; and, oddly, lack of balance does not get much sympathy from the younger crowd. One little falter and your kids look at you like the town drunk.

Just days ago I climbed out of our Suburban (yes, Arianna Huffington, we have a Suburban), and as I stepped down to the curb I almost fell. It was kind of a stagger at first, then a dive. Had it not been for a great one-handed save by U.S. Secret Service agent Jim Pollard, Barbara would surely have been calling 911.

I love fishing in the rivers of Labrador with my friend Craig Dobbin. But this year the boulders in the Adlatok River that never bothered me a bit became impossible for me to stand on or climb around. My guide, Bill Lynch, held onto me in the river like you'd hold on to a 3-year-old kid. The current threatened me. The slippery rocks did me in. I used to love to wade the rivers and conquer the boulders, but at 80--no way!

I have a fast boat, a very fast 31-foot Fountain. It is rigged for fishing. With its two 225-horsepower Mercury OptiMax outboards, it can fly. I love that boat, and age has not kept me from going out in big seas or from making high-speed entries into our harbor. There is still a thrill factor there as I speed into our bay then turn sharply. Kids love this. I like watching them scream in a sharp turn; so this boat makes me feel young and very happy. Age has not diminished my love of the sea or the joy of driving my boat across the Atlantic waves.

Barbara does not like the boat because there aren't any really comfortable seats for older people. She can't read at 55 miles per hour either. We used to fish together a lot but now her legs rebel at the boat's pounding. I miss her out there on the open Atlantic.

At 80, body kinds of things matter more. I love a good sauna or a hot tub. Massage therapy is great; make that essential. I hope heaven has these wonders.

My back aches more now. So do my legs. So I have tried stretching. Everyone says, "When you get older, you must stretch." The problem is stretching is boring. There is no competition in stretching, no winners and losers. But it does help. It is better when someone helps you stretch. I like just lying there and letting someone else tie me into a half granny. Well, not exactly, because I don't bend that much. I like riding a low-hung exercise bike. I can fast walk but I can no longer jog. I miss the jogging. I miss the adrenaline rush that came on after a good, brisk three- or four-mile jog.

I wish I could still play tennis. I don't play tennis anymore except when I hit at charity events put on each year in Florida by Chrissie Evert or in Texas by Chuck Norris.

The Chris Evert event is showbiz at its finest. I am usually Chrissie's partner. We have never lost. Chrissie sees to that. I am not saying the matches are rigged. I am saying the word must be out for the opponents to be kind to this former president.

When playing against some great player like Jim Courier or Tommy Haas, they hold back from hitting hard right at me. To give the crowd a thrill, they occasionally get into a hot rally with Chrissie. I just stand there muttering to myself, "When I was in my 30s, I could have held my own at least for a few crisp volleys."

Chrissie still goes "Get to the net" or "Bend your knees more" or "Can't you at least cover behind me on a lob?" You might think we were on Centre Court at Wimbledon. Chrissie Evert is a class competitor--was at Forest Hills and Wimbledon, and still is at the stadium at Delray Beach.

My reactions are much slower now. In this year's match, Chris and I were playing against Tommy Haas and Chevy Chase. Chevy is younger than I am and better than I am, but not a heck of a lot better. Anyway, this year he drilled me in the groin with a well-hit forehand. Several years ago he never would have got me: My reactions would have spared me. But reaction times are down, danger to the groin up. No more real tennis, but I sure miss it.

What was your question? Oh, yes--hearing. My hearing has deteriorated, not dangerously so, however. I can hear selectively. I can tune people out when I want to.

One has to be careful with the tuning out, because if the question is shot right at you, you don't want to look dumb. But if the question is shouted from, say, the wife's bathroom, you don't need to respond. Sometimes I can make out the question clearly, at other times it is all just a giant mumble.

I try my hearing aid. Once you get past the part where the device screeches into your ear when you first put it in, it can be helpful.

My hearing aid helps when, say, I am watching a rental from Blockbuster. The bad news is it kills when you are at a cocktail party or even in the office. The other day, eating out, I was coasting along hearing pretty well when someone crumpled up some paper a few tables away. It sounded like a low-yield nuke had just gone off.

Barbara used to insist I use my hearing aid: "You have the darn thing, just use it." She doesn't do that anymore. I have convinced her I only need it at certain times.

I have no problem with the cosmetics of hearing aids. I don't care if it is the "tiniest hearing aid ever made." Hey, if you are 80, people expect you to be deaf as a post.

I tell Barbara and my grandkids to pronounce more clearly. It is a diphthong thing. They don't do it, though.

The grandkids are now convinced I am totally deaf. Little do they know that I just tune them out. Life is simpler if I don't have to stop in when summoned to that messy room where they hang out to give my views on Madonna, P. Diddy or Eminem. I have no views on those people. I am happily disconnected from hip-hop, dirty-talking screen performers and science fiction. I love my grandchildren, all of them. But I no longer want to get their views on Hollywood celebrities or even hear how much they enjoyed the Dave Matthews concert way the hell up near the Canadian border:

"It took us five hours to get to the concert area, and then we had to walk for an hour because there was no parking. We stayed up all night. Pierce slept in the back of a pickup truck." I listened but I didn't care. Is that selfish? All I could think about was recommending a good psychiatrist to all of them. Who, if totally sane, would drive all day, walk for hours, listen to a rock concert--in the rain yet--then spend the rest of the night camped in the bed of a pickup truck? Give me a break.

At 80, the motto "early to bed and early to rise" makes extraordinary good sense. At 80 you can say at dinner "I am so darn old, I hope you'll forgive me if I excuse myself and go to bed." No one argues, everyone understands. In fact, I know the younger ones are glad to see the old fogey go. It is wonderful. Several years ago after dinner, our grandkids used to challenge me. "Let's play peggity" or "I can beat you at backgammon, Gampy." Every once in a while I'd accept the challenge. Now it's, "I won't even pass go; I'm going to bed."

There are things kids say that don't exactly disturb me now that I am 80, but things that make me wonder what they are learning. They use the word "like" all the time. My beloved teenagers can't say a sentence without saying "like."

Like "Hi, Gampster, are you like going out in the boat, and if you do will you like take me with you?" Why do kids do this? Why don't their teachers tell them to cease and desist? They should simply tell the kids "Don't say 'like' all the time." Maybe it is only us old guys who notice, because we like didn't learn to talk that way and like now everyone under 20 goes "like" all the time. It's a new phenomenon. I hope our grandkids grow out of it before I get to be 85.

At 80, I find I still look forward to things. I still have goals. I look forward to my parachute jump on my 80th birthday. Barbara is okay with it, but she has managed to contain her enthusiasm. "One way or another, George, this will be your final jump." I asked her to rephrase it. She wouldn't.

I look forward to our oldest grandson, George P. Bush, getting married this summer. I am excited about the big event. I don't dare tell George P. and Mandi, but a remaining goal of mine is for me to get to be a great-grandfather before I turn 82. It could happen.

Another goal is to live until 2008, because I want to attend the commissioning of CVN77, the newest and most modern aircraft carrier ever to sail the seas. The ship has been named for me, George H.W. Bush. Our daughter, Doro, is the sponsor of the ship. That makes CVN77 "her ship." The commissioning of this grand carrier in 2008 is something I really look forward to.

I also look forward to our 60th wedding anniversary less than a year from now. But even in my 80th year, it doesn't seem we have been married that long. It has been a wonderful journey.

Forgetful--that's where my mind is. I can clearly remember some things that happened 40 years ago, and yet now I can't remember where I put my glasses and who's coming to lunch and sometimes I can't instantly recall the names of close friends. Everyone says, "Well, sir, you have met so many people, how can you possibly remember names? Your mind must be full of names and places and events. How can you begin to remember last week's speech in Orlando or Las Vegas?" The truth is my mind gets a little lazy these days. I am afraid I don't concentrate on names when being introduced to new people.

To understand what's happening to me now, I asked Dr. John Eckstein, my doctor at the Mayo Clinic, about the brain.

John tells me that the front of the left temporal lobe is where one stores and then remembers people's names. Okay, so my left temporal lobe is a little lazy. Maybe it is full, maybe a few quarts over the top; but, hey, at 80 I don't worry about this lobe, and I am not going to start eating seaweed, plankton or dried guava. I know I won't be around for many years more so forget it--don't worry about it.

Besides, I can always bluff through it. "Say, how's the wife?" or "How's it going, pal?" "You look great; how's the old lady?" Careful with that last one, though. A lot of old ladies have gone to heaven or been dumped.

At 80, I do find myself reading the obituary pages a lot more. "Hey, Bar, did you see where Andrew died last week?"

I now understand more clearly what Phyllis Diller meant when she said "All my friends are dying in alphabetical order."

Here's another very important point about aging at 80. Back when I was a younger man, I could rationally discuss with a friend an ailment I might have. Now, if I start to tell a friend about my hip operation I must brace myself for a lengthy discussion about his operation, his prostate surgery or his wife's gall bladder. It is better not to discuss your body parts with anyone.

How to sum it up. Being 80 is okay, not bad at all. Herewith a few general conclusions:

1) Life is good for Barbara and me. We have many happy memories of being President and First Lady, but at times I literally find it hard to realize that we actually lived in the White House. When we go back there I love to go through the West Wing or browse through the residence. The President and Laura always make us feel so welcome. I am sometimes overcome with emotion when I sit alone in the President's private office on the second floor of the residence. That marvelous White House staff, the men and women who see Presidents come and go and treat them all with respect, always seem to be welcoming us home.

2) It hurts more when the press and political opponents criticize one of my sons than when they used to knock the socks off me. I know that criticism, fair or grossly unfair, goes with the territory; but it still hurts a lot when someone you love is attacked day in and day out.

3) It is true that the older you get, the faster time flies. It's going by lightning fast.

5) Satchel Paige was right when he said, "Don't look over your shoulder. Something might be gaining on you." So I look forward. I want to give something back. I want to live life to its fullest. Every night Barbara and I say our prayers and we count our many blessings and we give thanks to God.

At 80, there are a lot of breathtaking sunrises ahead, and many brilliant sunsets, too.

In the Navy we young pilots all prayed for CAVU: Ceiling and Visibility Unlimited. But, you see, at 80, that is where my life is now. Thanks to my family and my friends, my life is CAVU.

God bless you GHWB and thank you for sharing your self-effacing and humorous musings on being 80. Clearly you are sharper than many who ARE 41.

It wasn't fair that you were taken down by your own. We conservatives owe you gratitude.

Class envy, Arch??

Not in the least, my life is complete and very fufilling. Less than .01% of 1% of the population do what I do (fly airplanes for a living and teach others to do so) so I brook none of the nonsense that you suggest. I simply believe the former President and the former first lady (the "beautiful mind" quote) should dial it down a notch.

Are you a 'dick', or do you just play one on TV? GHWB is a class act, and methinks you are just a little jealous...

Were you raised this way by your parents? I think not, but your surrogate loud mouths on TV have done you a complete disservice. As far as jealous, you're wrong, but most loud mouths are usually wrong.

Wow, I'm sorry you're this bitter, Archangelsk; however, I am entirely responsible for my financial situation. If I retire without enough money put aside I've only myself to blame.

The problem is that in spite of your best efforts you will probably run out of money long before you run out of life. As far as being bitter, no I'm not, as previously noted, I lead a very complete and fufilled life and I have no need for "things" to validate my existence. (Don't start on why I own a couple of computers (2 and both were bought many years ago), own cars (2 used ones, both owned) or fill the basic necessities of life. I live like a pauper, pay cash for everything, save every cent I get my hands and am beholden to no marketing gimmick).

I almost didn't want to read anymore, but I'm glad I did. I hope I can do half of what he does at his age. I'm a bit less than half his age and I can feel myself losing a step compared to some of the kids out jetty jumping today. ;-)

"God bless you GHWB"

This was sweet to read and I thank God for all his years of service. I could not help but read between the lines and feel a little sad though, his being 80 and seeing all the changes he has seen in this world and watching as we did such great things over the years as a nation only to be where we are today. Sometimes it must seems hopeless to them. I wonder how it must feel to watch it all, through their grandchildren, see the trivia and nonsense that so many waste their time on, it must be real discouraging sometimes to have given so much and THIS is what we have to show for it. I pray these seniors will see young children that will give them a real reason to believe everything they did was worth it for this future generation and not in vain. Our children and grandchildren owe it to these seniors now, who have all their lives done so much and come through so much trial.

Dial it down a notch? LOL!

This is the life they've led, and if that bothers you, then the problem is YOURS, friend, not the former President's.

There is nothing 'uppity' in the least about this article. It's completely delightful, Bush 41's writing style is great, and your irritation with it is quite telling.

btw, I know LOTS of middle class folks with speed boats and SUV's........

Dial it down a notch ? I guess I'm just dense but I'm not getting your drift. Just exactly why and how far should this former navy pilot, businessman, congressman, Special Envoy to China, Ambassador to the UN, Vice President, President of the U.S. and father of the current Governor of Florida and of the current President, dial it down ? After a lifetime of service to this country why would anyone begrudge him or expect him to forego the active lifestyle that has invigorated him for these 80 years ?

I have some envy for you and the fact that you fly for a living...I still look up at every airplane that flies by...but, I've got a psych degree and even if I didn't, you still sound bitter.

I don't know what demon(s) you have in your life, past, present or whatever, but it's rearing its head in your posts on this thread. I'm not trying to pick on you, the other people have already done a fair job of nailing you, but something about this is touching you and it's coming out. Nothing wrong with that, but don't let it make you small.

Wow! Who contaminated your cornflakes today?

GHWB sacrificed a good part of his life to lead this country - you may not remember how it aged him (it's aging his son too; they take their obligations seriously.) In essence he gave a good portion of his prime years to YOU.

Why should he not pass his retirement years in doing the things that bring him joy (and that he can still do?)

BTW, it seems like every redneck around here can afford a boat and an SUV, they're all over the lake every weekend catchin' bass. (And I say that as a descendant of many honest rednecks who spent their golden years backing the bass boat down the ramp and telling lies about what they caught when they got home.) It's all in how you spend your money, and last time I checked it was a free country.

After I read this thread, I checked my email to find the following forwarded to me by my almost 89 year old mother. She is just as interested in politics today as she was 60 years ago. She loves the Bush family.

I am just adding her letter to this thread in honor of those who age gracefully.

#####

When I read this to Daddy he laughed! I don't care if they print this but I want THE SUN to know we are watching.
Love to All, Mom

Subject: gas prices

To the Editor, [Baltimore Sun]
In reference to the article concerning gasoline prices by David L. Greene on page 1 of THE SUN of 5/31/2004 I will quote, "Some Democrats,for example, have urged Bush to borrow oil from the nation's emergency reserves. Kerry has proposed reducing the supply going into the reserves. Bush has refused." Please remember how the Democrats work!
Bush41 did not want to raise taxes. He said,"No new taxes." Then 'the alligator' said, "If you just raise taxes we will also cut spending, ------ just hop on my back and I will carry you across". You know what happened to him. George W. Bush will never fall for that. Can't you just hear the Democrats, and the liberal press (THE SUN) accusing Bush of acting purely out of politics? Some of us have good memories.

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