Just Thinking

90 is the new 70.

For many of you, that has no appeal. And, really, it's kind of a joke.

But that is what I thought as John Reed was telling me he'll soon be 90 and his tenor voice is not quite what it used to be. (Duh!) He wanted to sing in the choir, but didn't come to practice, so he called to tell me why and see if I would excuse him from singing. I surely will.

I assured him, we have four tenors now, so he's off any hook he had put himself on. He was relieved. So was I, if you want to know the truth.

This age thing. I have written about it more than a couple of times. And recently I wrote that contrary to what you might have heard all your life, age it is not entirely relative. Not entirely, but a little bit, because some days I'm not nearly as old as my numbers tell me. Others days, oh yeah, I'm old.

John is still physically able, still driving. Yes, I know. You're thinking you don't want to be on the same road he's driving. Whatever.

Here's what I'm thinking. Old people are getting younger. I know quite a few people in their 80s, three of my siblings among them. Still going strong. And one woman in my ward is 92. You can see her every Sunday at church.

I say good.