Jody Beth, my faithful pup, brings me my cane I left in the bird garden. The carved, wooden handle of my cane is dangling, chewed up. The cane is useless. As told to me by my mother a hundred times, when her mother was dying upstairs, little Donnie Kuhl, age three or so, …
It’s so weird. My son turned 50. How can that be? I was 50 just a few years ago. Wasn’t I? If you have children and you remember “The Howdy Doody Show,” there’s a good chance your children no longer consider themselves young – or you as anything but old. Not that they will …
I just finished a good book: “The Art of Dying Well” by Katy Butler. It’s not in my strategic plan to drop dead for many years, but Dr. Butler brings up many facts and recommendations people of any age can ponder. At 74, I’ve been present while six individuals have died. …
As an old guy, I still love to hold the hand of the woman I love. However, I had a tough start. Mary Watson was special in seventh grade. She could twirl a baton better than most of the high school girls. When I was lucky, I’d see Mary walking home after band practice, and …
I was having coffee with a close friend, Mike, talking about getting older together. We looked around the shop and guessed the ages of people standing in line. Were they younger or older than us? It took an evaluation of at least a dozen customers before we found one …
As a kid, I got so annoyed with my mother, Irene, always yakking, “If you don’t have your health, nothing else matters.” I’d wait 10 seconds and my dad, Vern, would pipe in, “And it doesn’t hurt to have a bunch of money in the bank.” Now, many years later, I’ve …
When I’m pretending to be an astute senior leader, I turn to articles in the Harvard Business Review. Most often, I just look at the colorful and clever graphics that introduce each section. Once in a while, a heading will catch my curiosity, such as “The Feedback Fallacy,” …
“The path to change is seldom smooth or straight.”– James O. Prochaska Jim Prochaska is a leading researcher and author on behavior change – and a good friend of mine. Jim must have observed my lifetime when he made this simple but astute comment. When I was a …
Manufacturers of cups, plates, tables and picture frames have been tracking my aging process. They hate me. Yet, they want my money. For all my previous years, we have gotten along well. They make stuff. I buy their stuff. It’s been a symbiotic relationship. Then, they …
I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but I was a prized window washer in LaGrange, Illinois, in the early 1960s. I worked on old houses, and owners would ask for me by name. Often, at the end of a full day, an extra dollar or two would be slipped into my soapy hands. Fast …