28,490 and 12,418
The first number will be the number of days I’ve been on this mudball as of my 78th birthday in March 2020.
The second number is the number of days I have left from that point if I were to hit my stated goal of living to 112 1/2.
You know, the goal that’s responsible for guffaws, derision, repulsion and fewer dinner invitations.
Full disclosure: my daily infusion of lisinopril, levothyroxine, Eliquis, and atorvastatin would hint that 12,418 is up there with pigs flying.
But, I forge on nonetheless, deluding myself daily that the world is changeable.
A generation is generally considered to be 25 years or 9,125 days. Laden with a feeling that my first three generation-equivalents were only marginally impactful, I am buttressed with the realization that amazing things can happen in a single generation ( think Steve Jobs, Bill Gates, Nelson Mandela).
So with that outlier mindset, I have about 1 1/3 generations to make some things happen. Assuming that Depends, drool and dementia don’t make an early appearance, I should be able to leave a footprint, don’t ya think?
Part of that “footprint” is to try to reach pre-boomers, baby-boomers, early GenXers with the message that our culture wants to stamp us with an “early expiration date” at a time when the opportunity to have global impact is at its peak with our skills, talents, wisdom, and experiences.
Yet, with biologies that have only two choices – growth or decay – we tend to choose decay.
This week’s article is yet another appeal to consider this entrance into the “third age” as the biggest deal yet – with at least a generation to leave a footprint.
Thanks for your continued support. Let me know your thoughts.
