Bradley Ruzicka

I have a variety of blogs in various states of completion. Blogs about the past and future of the US, tributes to various singers / songwriters or groups, memories of music and life in the ’70s, etc. This blog is different. It represents one of those times when a realization flashes through your mind based on an unexplained mood, a simple question from a young restaurant employee, an early summer evening drive, and a song on the radio.

A little background. I’ve been feeling melancholy lately but hadn’t been able to quite put my finger on the reason. With the promise of summer ahead after another long winter, I thought I’d be feeling more motivated, more energetic, more inspired. Instead, I found myself wondering about the future and feeling unsettled.

I went out to dinner a few nights ago. Nothing out of the ordinary, just a trip to Old Country Buffet. I stepped up to the counter to pay my bill and a young man, in his late teens or early twenties, asked me a question that stopped me in my tracks.

Are you 60 or over?

The question so surprised me I wasn’t able to immediately respond. Finally, I said “I’ll let you answer that question.”. He looked at me, thought for a minute, and then gave me the senior discount.

For the record, I’m not yet 60. I’m 55 turning 56 in September. The fact I’m getting older is not a surprise. Simple math tells me I have more days behind than ahead of me. And, since I can remember, I’ve always felt older than my age. But I’ve never felt old. This question, like a sudden splash of cold water, got my attention. Do people really see me as being in my 60s? And why does this idea bother me so much? I immediately knew these questions had something to do with my unsettled mood but I wasn’t yet sure how or why. After all, I don’t remember feeling anxious about turning 30 or 40 or even 50. But there was something about being perceived in my 60s that troubled me.

I ate my dinner and read my book as I usually do when I dine alone. However, in the back of my mind, I kept wondering why the idea of turning 60 made me, for the first time, feel old. I finished my meal and began my drive home. Outside the car, I watched the red clouds at dusk as day turned to night. Inside the car, I listened to my iPod and wondered why this innocent question continued to haunt me.

And then I heard a song that seemed to bring all those questions into focus. The song itself was neither new or unfamiliar. Yet, as I listened to it while observing the sunset and pondering my unease, it dawned on me. Here I am on the verge of entering my twilight years and there is still so much I haven’t experienced; whether it be something as simple as missing out on those endless summer nights described in the song playing on my iPod or something as significant as never having made that difference in the world I thought for so long was my destiny.

Now, this wasn’t the first time I had felt these regrets. But, before this week, I’d always believed time was on my side. The realization that my 60s are just around the corner left me wondering; Have I missed my window of opportunity? Are my best years behind me? I don’t have answers to these questions nor am I even sure the answers can be found. Perhaps only time will tell. At least I now know why I’m feeling so melancholy and unsettled. Still not sure what to do with this insight but, for now, I’ll leave those questions for another day.

I debated whether or not to publish this blog. I’m still unsure how something so personal and difficult to write will be received. I wasn’t even sure what to title it! I generally start with a title and use it to frame the content. In this case, I kept bouncing from title to title, unable to settle on one until I’d actually finished writing the blog.

I finally decided to use the title of the song I was listening to as I drove home that early May evening; “Endless Summer Nights”. Written and performed by Richard Marx for his 1987 self titled debut album, the song’s lyrics speak to me not just of love that fades away as summer turns to autumn but also of that sudden transition from the summer of life, when all things seem possible and time is plentiful, to the autumn of life, where one is forced to examine his or her legacy on this earth while acknowledging that time is no longer a friend.

Summer came and left without a warning
All at once I looked and you were gone
And now you’re looking back at me
Searching for a way that we can be like we were before

One last regret to end this blog. I remember a time when I really wanted my hair to look like Richard Marx’s hair in the attached video. Probably a little late for that!

As always, your feedback is appreciated!