It’s inevitable we grow old.
Gradually we’ll slow down, lose some hair, add a few unwanted pounds, (especially around the mid-section) and eventually retire from our job. I don’t know about you but there are times I reach for the Advil or the heating pad because my joints ache in the morning.
But you know what, I’m fighting it like crazy. The good fight that is. Nothing stressful. No worries about this thing they call ‘mid-life crisis’. No staring in the mirror each morning feeling sorry for myself because I look like I’m 65 when I’m only 45.
No botox type shit.
No plastic surgery, no hair plugs (men, let it fall out, shave it off, enjoy your look Kojak, Bruce Willis and Michael Jordan made bald popular!)
I’m talking about thinking young. It’s all in my mind. ‘How old do I feel‘?
Often times in life you hear the expression, “act your age.” Well to me, that pertains to certain situations. There is a time and a place to act like an adult.
But lately, I have been exploring my inner child.
Spending a lot of time around my kid and around my basketball team keeps me feeling young. My job (coaching) enables me to stay in shape. I try to eat right and workout as often as possible. I’m no candidate for Mr. Universe though.
Like most people, I wish I could turn back time and be a kid again.
There’s nothing wrong with thinking back to the good old days.
Sitting at the counter at Ray and Otto’s on 9th avenue drinking an egg cream.
Rice pudding from Pynn’s deli.
A slice from Joe’s.
An iced tea from Henry’s.
Walking up and down 9th avenue.
Walking to a friend’s house ‘calling for them’. (Do kids still do that?)
Playing 1 on 1 or 3 on 3 basketball, Taps or Around the World in the schoolyard. How about slap-ball, stick ball and football in the schoolyard?
Whiffle ball on Windsor Place.
Hanging out on the park side playing poker on the sidewalk while sipping a brew. In the winter sitting in the hallway on Prospect Park Southwest to stay warm.
Walking down to P.S. 154 schoolyard to play basketball on the half-court with Glenn, Buzzy, Michael Scotto, The Whopper and Michael Kawas. (Remember playing softball and football down there? I always wanted to hit it over the fence for a home run)
Riding our bikes down to East 5th street, playing ball then sitting on the bench rapping about everything from basketball to life until it got dark.
Waking up early Sunday morning to catch a ride outside of Farrell’s to go watch Farrell’s and McBears football kick ass at Farragut Road.
And of course, waking up to attend school at Holy Name Monday through Friday.
Those were the days my friend. No worries, no cares, no responsibility. (On second thought, we did have responsibilities but I was too fucked up to understand that concept)
When I think back to those days, I feel invigorated. I feel young. I smile, I cry and I think; think about all the great times I had as a youngster growing up on 9th avenue.
So why I can’t I feel that way again? No one wants to get old. So start acting like a kid again. Turn on the music, dance, sing and like Prince said, “Let’s Go Crazy!”
Matter of fact, I will. Music is on, I’m up dancing and having a good time! And later on today I’m heading out to the park to play some basketball.
Stay young my friend, stay young!