Jim Brown and I, from our University of Texas college days in the early 1960s, were exchanging emails and talking about the downside of getting older. Jim was and is a fine musician, a steel guitar player whom I met during the years when Threadgill's was the spot in Austin to dance, listen to music, and get into trouble. That and a bar called the Bronze Door and then the Jade Room. And also The Tavern, in downtown Austin, with a pizza place out the back door.
Jim and I have some health problems, his more disabling than my false alarms last year, and he was saying that despite everything, he still gets a kick out of life, still loves it.
I have my minor aches and pains, and the occasional scare, but I'm like Jim: life is such a glorious and rather miraculous experience that complaining seems a little ridiculous.
The Mexicans have a saying, "Más tiempo que vida," there is 'more time than life', and that says it all. It's not the length of years that counts but how and why we stay awake and experience life as the mysterious gift without the giver. At least that's my story, anyway.