We Still Have Dreams

 

     I was in Michigan for Thanksgiving.  I found myself in a Kroger in Plymouth, Mi picking up a few things.  Standing in line for the check-out I noticed a news and magazine stand.  I did not recall seeing the same at grocery stores in IL.  While contemplating this irrelevant observation, I noticed a Star tabloid on the rack.  John Travolta’s photo was on the front page with the headline of the lead story – John Travolta:  Starting Over at 70.  There was a starburst with a quote from the celebrity, “I still have dreams.”

I never knew Travolta was the same age as me.  I always thought he was several years younger. Why did I think he was younger?  Well, he played a high school student in a TV series, Welcome Back Kotter, that started his meteoric career.  That series first aired in 1975 when I 22 years old.  I simply assumed Travolta was 15 or 16 years old at the time.  A quick internet check verified that Travolta was born on February 18, 1954 in, no real surprise here, New Jersey.

Actually, John Travolta is still 69.  I am eight months older than him.  While we are both septuagenarians, we don’t have much in common.  He is a global celebrity and successful to the point he could fully retire into a lavish lifestyle I can barely imagine. He starred in many successful movies, but I only started admiring his movie roles in the 1990s with Pulp Fiction, Get Shorty, and Broken Arrow.  He was married once, to Kelly Preston.  They were married in 1991 until her untimely passing in 2020.  For a movie star, that is impressive for sure. 

So, he wants to start over, realize some dreams he still holds, and perhaps even reinvent himself.  This I can relate to.  Many folks my age can.  I could say something cliché like 70 is the new… new what?  Forty, fifty sixty?  That sounds good when your fifty perhaps.  70 is a cusp age for sure.  Our bodies have more aches and pains to the point everyone admits we are starting to really feel our age and realize the how finite our remaining year, and remaining productive year, are.  It is a bit sobering.  It is a time for reflecting on what have done, what we have not done, and what we coulda, shoulda, mighta done.  It is a time for reflecting on what we might want yet to do.

I have often commented on colleagues and friends that have retired.  Some say they want to play golf 24/7.  Others want to pursue other pastimes such as woodworking, gardening, civic involvement.  Some of us, life a Facebook friend of mine from kindergarten, are travelling the world and posting amazing photos of her travels.  People move to warmer climes and more scenic places.  Others, sadly turn into couch potatoes.  This is an option I could easily slip or settle into if I let my guard down.  We all seem to revel in the joys of family, especially the pure joy of grandchildren.

Me?  I am doing what I always wanted to do.  I am a full-time college professor.  I am writing.  I am playing music in a variety of groups and middle eastern genres.  Unexpectedly, I have found the joys of photography.  I am thoroughly enjoying all of these activities. 

I never read the article about Travolta in Star, but I can imagine he could easily be moving in directions that intrigue him, doing projects or taking up a hobby he always had passion for but never the time.  As unique as we think we are, one thing is certain, we tend to deal with the same general stages of life.  There is a predictable sameness to that.  The uniqueness is in the personalization. 

While many of us are planning, reinventing, and doing.  Some of are dealing with health worries.  Some of us, have already passed.  I think of a few friends that have passed all the time.  The sobering part of this age that I spoke of earlier is the realization that frequency of health issues and deaths will only increase. 

Yeah, “I am talking about my generation” and invoking a saying from back in the day to “keep on truckin’.”

 

Keep On Truckin’ Poster, R. Crumb, 1967