Growing up in the 80's, I loved Paul Simon's super-groovy tune "You Can Call Me Al." As a pre-teen, I paid little attention to the seemingly-abstract lyrics. Now, with a window seat on the downhill train to age 50 (I turned 48 last month), the opening stanza seems like it was written for me:
A man walks down the street
He says, "Why am I soft in the middle, now?
Why am I soft in the middle?
The rest of my life is so hard
Yep, all the clichés are true. As we move into the true "middle" of middle age, life gets simultaneously easier and harder. Slower and faster. Many of us find ourselves in the throws of the busiest and most important parts of our careers, becoming leaders and role models, maybe even doing our best work. At the same time, others in our cohort are watching sons and daughters leave for school, tying up the last delicate work of ensuring their progeny are prepared for the challenges ahead.
We are often rewarded with the realization that we are no longer cool; pop-culture references begin eluding us because we've been too busy to notice what's happening in entertainment. Our favorite songs are showing up on "retro" playlists and our most stylish clothes have come BACK into fashion twice. We're counting calories on our smartphones, religiously scheduling our gym time, and still asking why we are so "soft in the middle."
We run into old friends and are sometimes amazed at how much older they look since the last time we saw them...or how much they've begun to look like their parents. And then we realize they're probably saying the same things about us.
I was audibly reminded of my own age a few weeks ago in class. When faced with a room full of post-lunch GenZ kids in a 2 p.m. section, I often go to great lengths to get the students "in" for the session. I've found it's worth sacrificing two minutes of class time to do something entertaining to loosen up the brain and prepare it to receive new info...and if you can get the kids actually moving, even better. Desperate for ideas, I decided to demonstrate a karate move (I actually am a red belt in Tang Soo Do, from wayyyyyy back in the 80's).
When I showed the proper way to deliver a one-two punch (in the air, of course), my shoulder let out a crack so loud that everyone in the room heard it. For a second, I feared that I had broken something and every set of eyes in the room was on me. After realizing I had done myself no harm, I looked back at my students and said "this is what happens when you're pushing 50."
I like to think of moments like these as warning shots. "Yes," says the universe, "you cocky GenXer. You can keep staying active, but sometime, someday, those sounds will come with pain. And other consequences." These harbingers of potential future limitations are a call to action....to continue making steps to protect one's health and to quit putting off the things we enjoy. Take that hike, go to that concert, and write that song.
The truth is that everything has a limited lifespan. Physical ability, creativity, and cognition all wear down quickly in middle age if not used....and even the best of the best fail eventually. The old adage of youth being "wasted on the young" comes into full relevance to people who are still in their prime...but who also realize that there are fewer years of adventures now than memories.
A recent jam session reminded me how it's not all bad news, however. Being middle aged, at times, rocks. I'm blessed to be the bass man for a band called "Jim Donovan and Sun King Warriors." At 48, I'm one of the youngest dudes in the ensemble; we are all proud GenXers with a shared love for all kinds of music (though the 90s are special to most of us).
At the rehearsal, we were mapping out a few classic covers to add to our summer 2021 sets (we are very hopeful to return to performing SOON). Within minutes, we were mapping out riffs and runs that would have stumped our 20-something selves. The eclectic grooves ranging from Bob Marley to the Doors seemed to flow naturally into our fingers and voices. I remembered as a young bassist how daunting these songs would have been...and the beauty of middle age occurred to me.
Middle age is a time when the majority of our youthful abilities are still with us...and are potentially better than ever if we've taken care of them. For a musician, learning the riff is no longer the challenge; with years of practice and experience, we know that, with enough effort, it will come. The new and more exciting task is to capture the vibe of the experience. To be in the moment. To explore and soak up the richness of the art we are absorbing and interpreting. Gone is the need to "shred" to demonstrate our worth and skill; our presence in clubs and on stages has validated those points. The trust grown between people who have made music together for years frees the creative process by eliminating any need to prove ourselves to them.
I feel this same "zone" most days in the classroom. The confidence of age and experience, combined with what's left of my fading youth, allows me to quickly move past proving my worth to the students I work with. We can quickly get to the "good stuff" of engagement and conversation. Having enough energy to enthusiastically move around the classroom is a plus (even when my shoulder cracks), but it's not the root of the experience.
None of this swagger should imply that I'm flawless. I get tongue-tied and sometimes lose my place; but my grounding in nearly half a century of experience has given me the gift of being able to laugh at myself. To not be perfect. To make mistakes and admit them. If I'm truly doing a good job as a teacher, then hopefully my students will learn these lessons more quickly than I did. It's so much better to be a voice in the conversation, even if you occasionally utter something wrong, than to remain silent and have no say in where the lesson goes. If we hope to empower our next generation to take charge, we also need to teach them that imperfection is part of the process.
As I finish this posting, my dog Willis and I are prepping to meet a Millennial friend of mine for a cold morning hike. I'm certain that my joints will make cracking sounds consistently through our trip (and afterwards), but I'm happy to be out there. I'm fairly certain this time in one's life is all about realizing just how good it truly is to be alive. I know the trails we'll be walking very well...so might as well take the time to look around.
Enjoy the ride my friends. The middle of it is a great place to be.
One of the best parts of being a middle-aged musician (52 now) is the respect that so many of the younger generation show you when you walk into the club, even as a patron. I makes one feel good about all the work you've done to get where you are. And when they ask your advice on a musical performance or theory topic, it's even better. Now we are the wise old ones.
ReplyDelete