I was perched on a green padded stool at my favorite watering hole waiting for my Long Lost Cousin to join me. We were recently re-united after fifty years!

After a few minutes, he climbed up onto a stool next to me and said in a choked voice: “I’m a bag of nerves since I retired.”

He did look pale and drawn.

“What’s the matter?’ I said, signaling the bartender for two more beers.

“I don’t want a beer, get me a whiskey.”

The bartender served up our drinks in record time.

“Now, that we have the drinks we want, what is all the anxiety about?”

“I had a dream last night and this voice kept asking me questions.”

“What did this voice say?”

“Well, it started out saying: “Now that you’re retired,” and then it continued, “Who are you? Where are you going? And where do you belong?”

My cousin’s eyes were bulging out of his head!

“Oh, it’s the old bug-a-boo, “Identity Crisis.”

“Yes, it’s a crisis alright! Ever since I retired from my job of 25 years, I’ve been at loose ends.”

My cousin drank his whiskey and ordered another!

“You retired a couple of years ago. How did you cope with those questions?”

LLC stared at me waiting for my wisdom.

“Well, I think it boils down to identity management, in other words, changing your identity. Get out of the work box you were in for 25 years!”

“Okay cousin, I repeat, how did you answer those questions?”

My LLC was pushing me for answers. I hoped I could satisfy him.

He broke into my thoughts and said: “And another thing, I feel like I’m invisible since I retired. People seem to ignore me! Why is that?”

“Boy oh boy, cousin, you’re really bombarding me with questions. Maybe we can tie both problems together. The identity crisis and the invisible feelings.”

We sat in silence for a minute. My cousin was shifting his weight on the stool.

“Well, lets start with the thought that we live in a “youth-obsessed” society and also a “work-oriented” society. So, when you retire, people tend to think you’re no longer a person of interest! Your opinions are not noteworthy! That is a prejudice that many people hold.”

“That’s a nasty prejudice to have,” said my cousin, angrily.

“Granted, but it’s a fact of life!”

“So, what do we do about it?” LLC was demanding.

“We have many identities, but when we retire from our life-time work, we lose that framework identity. So, we have to grow another identity, so to speak.”

“How do we do that?”

“By cultivating different interests. Every action we take has meaning to us and to others. This is why it is critical to shape our identities to our present circumstances.”

“I’m confused,” said LLC, rolling his eyes.

“Well, our identities are not fixed, they can be changed. Your new identity could bring more pleasure and happiness into your life. It’s great to explore new realities and ways of being.”

“It’s starting to get clearer.”

“Okay, let me answer those questions that I came to grips with when I retired. Then you can use my example as a guide.”

“When I retired I knew I would need some interest to fill the hours and to fulfill me as a person. I was always interested in writing but my daily work life used up most of my time. Now, I was free to create another identity. I began writing again.”

“That must have been a great feeling.”

“It was cousin, now let me answer the questions:

Who Am I?-I’m Writer Dave, a writer who gets great satisfaction out of creating stories and having them read by others. I belong to writer groups and I attend writer conferences that give me a wider social context. I also feel that I am a separate and unique individual, which is very important.”

I took a deep breath and continued:

Where Am I Going?-I’m directing my life toward learning how to write better. My goals are to write my blog and more novels in the future.

Where Do I Belong?-I belong and am accepted in the writer circles that I circulate in.”

“Wow! That’s great cousin. You sound very satisfied.”

“I’ll leave you with this, the older I get, the more I understand how my mind works. My identity is an essential part of my being which gives me satisfaction and stability in my life.”

“Cousin, I feel better already.”

And with that, my LLC left the building!

A friend of mine asked me a curious question. It was curious, for two reasons, one, we were in our favorite watering hole and two, why would he think such a thing?

“Are most writers alcoholics?”

“What makes you ask that?”

“Well Dave, you are a writer and I’d like to become one and yesterday someone said to me if I become a writer there’s a chance I will be an alcoholic!”

I smiled and said, “Well, you know I like my wine with my meals but I am far from an alcoholic.”

“Some famous writers were alcoholics, such as Fitzgerald, Hemingway and Williams,” said my friend.

“Granted, some writers think that ideas flow better with a drink while writing, it also relieves the writer’s tension. But that is not what makes a writer!”

“Okay then, here’s another question for you. What are writers like?”

“That’s a better question and for the answer we will have to delve into the writer’s character.”

My friend had a pensive look on his face.

“I’ve heard a lot about “writer’s temperament”. What’s that?”

“I can see we’re going to have quite a discussion here, lets have another drink. Bartender, two more old fashions, please.”

“There are a lot of myths attached to writer’s temperament, like alcoholism and moods. But in reality a writer is a person who is more versatile, more sympathetic and more studious than the ordinary person. They don’t pay much attention to the ideas of the crowd. They amuse themselves in solitude!”

“That’s interesting, but what about the despair of the writer? It’s not all glamour, is it?”

“No, far from it,” I laughed.

“I like to daydream about stories,” said my friend.

“That’s okay, it’s part of the writing process but then you have to turn the dream into reality.”

“There’s a lot of doubt and worry attached to writing, isn’t there?”

“There are times while worrying about my story, I have lots of reasons to doubt and not one for self-confidence. But that’s also part of the writer’s lot, a period of despair!”

“Someone told me a writer is two people in one. What’s that all about?”

“The two people are the “unconscious” and the “conscious”. They are the mental functions of the whole writer. The unconscious provides the rising story, types of characters, scenes and emotional responses. Then in the conscious it is scrutinized and polished and sent back to the unconscious for the final combination of components to form the whole. Then it signals the conscious the work has been done and finally the actual writing of the story begins!”

“Boy, I never knew so much goes on in the creative mind.”

“Yes, you have to learn to be your own best friend and your own severest critic.”

“I’ve also been told that writers have to be original. But others say, there’s no such thing as pure originality because every story has been done! So, how can we be original?”

“Good question, since there are only 36 dramatic situations or plots, so how do we get many, many different stories from those 36? That’s where your originality comes into play. It’s how you present them!”

“What do you mean?” said my wan-a-be writer friend.

“The one contribution we writers can make to the vast pool of knowledge, is how the world looks to us through our stories.”

“Oh, I get it, sort of a personal judicious selection of our views.”

“Hey, right on! Now, out of about seven billion people worldwide, YOU ARE UNIQUE. Isn’t that food for thought?”

“It makes you feel special.”

“Right, no one has exactly your background, your experience, or grew up like you did, or faces the world with the exact ideas that you have!”

My writer friend smiled and said, “So, if I write a story, it is told through my eyes. Then I have a piece of original work.”

“How your story unfolds is unique to you, it’s your character showing through your work, it’s your original point of view.”

My friend pondered that for a moment.

I spoke up, “Lets have an example: Ten people were asked to write for ten minutes expanding this sentence. “A boy was so upset by his parent’s divorce that it tinged his whole life mentally and emotionally.”

The ten people came up ten completely different story versions. Each person saw the situation in a personal light and created a different story!”

“I get it, we all see situations from different angles because we are looking at things through OUR eyes, hence the originality!”

“Correct.”

“What is the basic thing we need to write good?”

“Well, we must learn and grow. We need strong beliefs, convictions and opinions because they are the basis of our writing. All our writing is about persuasion. We are trying to persuade our reader to see the world with our eyes, to agree that our story is either tragic or comedic. So, we need to know what our beliefs and convictions are on the major problems of life.”

“Can you put all this information in a nut shell?”

“The writer knows there are times when he must have solitude, time to daydream and time to sit idle. Then the time for silence is gone and you have reached the moment when you must write to exercise the vision!”

“Great, I can’t wait to start writing!”

“And finally remember:

ADAM WAS THE ONLY PERSON WHO COULD SAY SOMETHING THAT WAS TRULY ORIGINAL!

I was sitting in my scriptorium (study), one afternoon, gazing out the window, daydreaming! When there was a heavy knock at my front door. Startled out of my idea-catching mode, I went to the door, opened it, and there stood my Long Lost Cousin. He is no longer long lost, because we found each other a few years ago. I ushered him into the scriptorium. I sat in my swivel chair and he plunked himself down on the settee.

“What’s on your mind, cousin?”

“Well, you know I read your blog stories all the time, and I’ve read your ebook, so I like your writing and want to be a writer myself!”

“Do you want a drink, cousin?”

“No, thank you, I want to stay sober because I’m going to do a little writing later.”

“Thank you for your loyalty and the compliment. Have you written anything recently?”

“Yes, I’ve tried my hand at a few short stories. The few people that have read them, including my wife, said they were okay. But I question, can I write?” LLC looked confused.

“Well cousin, there are a few measurements available to see if you can write.”

“Such as?” LLC said eagerly.

“Lets first take “Technical Proficiency”, how well you understand the component elements of writing. Such as dialogue, description, exposition, characterization, punctuation, grammar and narrative.”

“Oh boy, that’s a lot of elements?”

“That’s not all of them, also you have chronology, flashbacks and backstory, show or tell, tense and point of view.”

“You need to know all that?” LLC looked worried.

“Of course, cousin, if you want to write well. Every element melds together flawlessly to create a powerful impression on the reader!”

“So, it’s like magic?”

“That’s right, “The Writer’s Magic”. You can get your reader excited, scared, angry and full of emotion. But they never see how you did the trick!”

“Anything else?”

“Yes, next comes “Structural Proficiency”, the more word count you have, the more demands on the writer. You have to understand pace, storyline, character arcs, suspense, conflict and twists.”

“What kind of writer are you, cousin?”

“Well cousin, I’m a blend of two types. I like to write chronologically sometimes and other times I prefer to write bits of the story separately, here and there and everywhere. Just so I don’t lose the thread of the storyline!”

“When I came this afternoon, were you writing?”

“Actually, I was daydreaming, which is part of the writing process.”

“How’s that, cousin?”

“Daydreaming is one source that a writer has to draw his material from. The writer creates a world of fantasy, like a child at play, he then invests all his emotions into it, while separating it from reality.”

“Boy, this is interesting stuff, cousin,” said LLC, his eyes sparkling, “Tell me more.”

“A writer sometimes takes a strong experience in the present and it awakens a memory from his past, maybe childhood, from which he now proceeds to write about a wish, a daydream, which finds fulfillment in his story!”

“So, after all that, what are the problems that a writer has just starting out like me?”

“The problems are personality problems. The writer starts a story but loses heart, gets stuck and is blocked. Sometimes he writes good and sometimes he writes very bad! It’s frustrating! In other words, they are problems of confidence, self-respect, the demons of the subconscious, where a lot of our ideas come from.”

“Lots of problems then?”

“Yes, but you can work hard and get rid of the habits of thought that impede your progress. In other words, strengthen your right side of the brain, which handles expressive and creative tasks.”

“Any final words before I leave?”

“Yes, cousin, they are on the light side. I asked a guy, the other day, what he did for a living.

“I’m a brain surgeon, what do you do?”

“I’m a writer,” I said.

“Oh, that’s what I think I’ll do when I retire,” said the surgeon, matter-of-factly.

“That’s interesting,” I said, “When I retire I want to be a brain surgeon!”

MY COUSIN LEFT THE BUILDING!

My Long Lost Cousin and I were seated on our favorite green padded stools in our favorite watering hole.

“My watch has stopped again,” said LLC.

“Better put it in for repair.”

“No, no, cousin, all my clocks in my house are stopping intermittently, lately!”

“Are there ghosts in your house?’ I laughed.

“I’ve also had a lot of déjà vu lately and premonitions too. I think I have a gift!”

“What kind of gift is that?”

“The gift of ESP of course, cousin!”

“Oh no, not another Paranormal in the family!”

My cousin nodded and smiled.

“Do you really believe in that hokum?” I said.

“Yes, I do. You and I are different, cousin. Remember I predicted my granddad’s death on his 90^th birthday, and it happened! I still see him in my dreams.”

“Any other experiences?” I prompted.

“Yes, in a diner, the other day, I ordered a ham sandwich on rye with cheddar cheese. But a few moments later, I thought I would rather have provolone cheese on it. I didn’t bother to change my order. When the waitress returned with my sandwich, it had provolone on it! She must have received my thoughts.”

“Well, I know there is a lot of ESP experiences going around. It amazes me WHY so many people believe even though the evidence for ESP is unreliable according to scientists.”

“Why is that, cousin?”

“Since you’ve been talking a lot, lately, about your weird experiences, I’ve been thinking about the reason why credulity is so high even though science rebuts it.”

“You read a lot about ESP in the papers and magazines,” said LLC.

“You’ve hit the nail on the head there, cousin.”

“I have?”

“Yes, you have. Spectacular stories of paranormal activity are well reported in the media. It sells newspapers, magazines and books. So people are more likely to read about support for ESP than see or hear any evidence that will challenge its validity.”

“It almost seems like I “WILL” myself to believe,” said my cousin.

“That’s another interesting point. Shall we have another drink? Bartender, another beer for my cousin and I think this time I’ll have a whiskey on the rocks.”

We both took a sip of our drinks and savored them!

“Now, about people’s WILL to believe in ESP. The existence of ESP gives people COMFORT because it suggests that there is a “greater reality” a “spirit life”, if you will, that we don’t fully understand.”

“What are you saying, cousin?”

“I’m saying that people like the possibility for some part of us to survive death! Most people would want a slice of immortality and ESP keeps that dream alive!”

“That’s all very interesting. Anymore explanations for ESP?”

“Yes, now that you ask, we all have an “outer space” and an “inner space”. Our  “outer space” is the world outside ourselves, our society. Our “inner space” is accessed through introspection and meditation. It opens up a perspective of our mind and spirit. You and I, cousin, are the total of all of our past experiences and lessons learned and this starts memories to resurface! It’s this “inner space” that supposedly triggers your ESP!”

I stopped for air and then ordered another beer and whiskey.

“I’ll pass on the beer, cousin, I have to go now. But I’ve discovered the difference between you and me. I TALK TO SPIRITS AND YOU DRINK THEM!”

“I want to write the story of my life, but I want it to be interesting!”

This is what a writer friend of mine said to me recently.

“Well, do you want to fictionalize it, like a blend of truth and fiction?” I offered.

“I don’t know, where is the line?”

“Are you saying your life story is boring?”

“Not entirely, it just needs a little embellishing.”

“So, you want to exaggerate the truth to make it more juicy?”

“Right, I might change some events altogether.”

“So, now you want to sell your life story as a novel.”

“Sounds good to me. It might sell then!”

“But will your life story be believable if you exaggerate too much?”

“I don’t see why not. Some say there’s a bearded man in the sky who created everything in seven days! Yet the same people say unicorns and fairies don’t exist!”

I smiled: “I know there’s a lot of conflicting ideas about truth and fiction in our so called “logical” world!”

“The dictionary says fiction is an invented story, not real. Truth is defined as accurate, conforming to fact, agreement with reality.”

We both were pondering those two words for a few minutes.

“Well, I think fiction actually comes from truth! Your fiction comes from incidents of truth. The incidents might be exaggerated and stretched to make them more interesting.”

“So, fiction is an escape from the boring truth of the world.”

“You could put it that way!”

“Many authors fictionalized their autobios. Dickens did with “David Copperfield”. F. Scott Fitzgerald did it in a couple of his novels, but they were considered fiction.”

“Why did they do it?”

“Probably, too many demons in their lives made them uncomfortable. Maybe through fiction they could tell the truth without humiliating themselves.”

“I’m still confused,” said my writer friend, “I want to make my life story interesting but real!”

“Well, what do we do when we write fiction?”

He thought about it for a minute and said: “We invent characters and events that feel real to the reader.”

“Right, spot on!”

My writer friend smiled.

“Now, one way to make it seem real is to use exaggerated autobio details.”

“Maybe this dilemma of truth or fiction or a mixture is getting clearer.”

“Most novelists incorporate pieces of their lives in their stories to ground their friction in reality.”

“So, to convert the truth to fiction, use the juiciest bits in your life and toss the uninteresting parts in the bin. This way you can use a piece of truth to its fictional advantage.”

Writer friend seemed satisfied!

“I’ve put a lot of “me” into my stories and sometimes the ratio of truth to fiction is very small.”

Someone once said: “Imagination and fiction make up more than three quarters of our life!”

“Well, I guess I will start on my autobiographical fictional life story. I probably won’t even recognize it as MY LIFE!”

TEMPUS  FUGIT

I was sitting on a green padded stool at the bar in the corner of my favorite watering hole. I’ve come here so much that I think of it as “Dave’s Corner”.

And who should walk in, but my Long Lost Cousin. In all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, he walks into mine! I think that was Bogart’s phrase in Casablanca. It was quite appropriate on this occasion!

“Hey cousin, why so glum looking?”

“I’m a pensioner now and the time seems to be flying by. I can’t keep up. I’m frightened!”

He did look pale!

“Bartender, give my cousin a gin and tonic and another beer for me.”

My cousin drank his drink fast, and re-ordered!

“Why are you frightened?”

“I feel like shouting, “Stop the world, I want to get off!”. But I’m not quite ready to jump off. I want to stop time from racing away from me. The faster time goes, the more I have to face the fact that my time is running out!”

“Well, cousin, you need to live each day to the full.”

LLC shifted his weight on the green padded stool.

“Cousin, how can you be so calm, you’re older than I am!”

“My dear cousin, I will not live in fear. What will be, will be!”

“I’m starting to feel that when youth is gone, the party is over.”

LLC’s voice and hands were shaky.

“Relax, my friend, you’ll live longer!”

“Oh, that’s real funny cousin. But WHY is this happening?”

I felt sorry for him. He was a bundle of nerves.

“Well, cousin, there are a few theories: One theory is that fewer NEW things happen in an old person’s life. There is constant routine which makes time seem to fly.”

“Oh great, now I’m going to be old and bored!”

“Hold on, here’s theory number two: Years are proportionally smaller as we get older. For example: A year is l/10^th of the life of a 10 year old, but a year is 1/70^th of the life of a 70 year old. Therefore, each year feels shorter relative to all  the time we’ve lived and thus time seems to be going faster!”

“Too many theories, it’s boggling my mind. Age doesn’t always bring wisdom, you know, in my case it came alone!”

I smiled: “Well, at least you haven’t completely lost your sense of humor!”

“What’s theory three, not that it makes any difference.”

“You’ll like this one. Your biological clock slows down, so that means your bodily processes slow down, so your internal clock is much slower than the calendar! So, time passes much quicker than you expected it to!”

“Now I am miserable.”

“Cousin, you need to get some fun in your life.”

“Why! They say: Time flies when you’re having fun. But when you’re old, time flies whether you’re having fun of not!”

“Cousin, maybe it would help if you lived in the Present more.”

“Oh, I give up! We are all born to die and we’re certain it is going to happen. Since I am in my 7^th decade, for me this inevitability will probably occur sometime within the next 20 or so years. It seems like a long time but the years are accelerating. So when it does occur, my reaction will be: “WHAT! ALREADY!”

I was at a writer’s conference in London, listening to a speaker talking about the merits of categorizing people. It’s like that old adage: When you point a finger at someone there are three fingers pointing back at you! Often when you label a person, it reflects on you also. Categorizing is about self-awareness!

After the speech, we were all tested to see what type we were. The six people at my table, including me, had a discussion about the pros and cons of typing people.

“Well, here we are ladies and gents, we have all been typed, and I am an introvert. I’m very independent, I’m a “do it my way” person, like Frank Sinatra. What were you people typed as?”

Tom spoke up: “I’m an extrovert, a realist who is action-oriented.”

Jim smiled and said: “I’m also an extrovert, but I’m a communicator and persuader. I motivate people.”

Patsie mumbled: “I’m an introvert. I’ll try anything once, usually high-risk things.”

“I’m an extrovert. I take on challenges readily. I’m inventive and I tend to convert everything to ideas and schemes,” said Lily.

Jane looked confused and said: “I’m an introvert. I tend to do the necessary things that have to be done. I’m driven by a sense of responsibility and I’m a practical person.”

“Well, that’s all very interesting. Now, do you agree with your test type?”

I became the moderator of the group!

“Yes and no,” said all!

“Well, I think I have some of each type and I try to see people as individuals not types,” said Jane.

“I think Jane is right,” said Tom, “Sometimes I’m an extrovert and sometimes I’m an introvert.”

“That’s true, but what I think is being tested here is what ways we prefer to express ourselves most of the time.”

They all nodded in agreement.

“We were all tested on extroversion and introversion. Do you remember what the speaker said about them?”

Lily explained: “You are an extrovert if you verbalize much of what you observe and think. You talk rather than listen. You are a lively person.”

“Wow! There’s nothing wrong with your memory, Lily,” said Patsie.

Patsie continued: “You’re an introvert if you keep your observations and thinking inside. You listen rather than talk.”

Jim responded: “Yes, I’m an extrovert because I am energized by the outside world.”

And Jane said: “I’m an introvert. I get energy from reflection, introspection and solitude. Introverts want a quiet life in a noisy world!”

“Well, all your comments have been spot on. Shall we finish by having you all comment on: Should you put people in categories?”

They all looked very pensive.

“I’ll kick it off, I think we are all individuals and I resent it when people think they know me just because they have put me in a pigeon-hole!”

Everyone nodded and clapped.

“I think it’s human nature to type people whether we realize it or not,” said Tom.

“You should not try to judge people until you get to know them. But we tend to group people as soon as we meet them,” said Jim.

“But can’t we fight against the bad things in our nature,” argued Patsie.

“I like to fool people. I am basically shy, but sometimes I become a mouthy dame,” laughed Lily.

“When you pigeon-hole someone, you really might lose the chance to get to know them better,” said Jane.

I chimed in: “Sometimes, we ASSUME we know a person by grouping them and when they prove us wrong, we feel like an ASS!”

The table exploded with laughter!

“At the end of the day, we are all writers. Will all this info about typing people help us become better writers?”

“I think it will. It will help us put together our characters more realistically. We also, will realize why we approach a story the way we do,” said Tom.

Everyone agreed.

“So, I’ll sum up this discussion with the statement: EVERYONE IS NOT LIKE YOU. YOU ARE UNIQUE. DIFFERENT IS NOT BAD, IT’S JUST DIFFERENT!”

I entered the psychologist’s office reluctantly. But I knew I had to find out if I was losing my memory.

The psychologist greeted me and led me to a huge black leather reclining chair. He looked a lot like Sigmund Freud, oval head, balding, deep-set eyes and a grey beard and mustache.

“Doctor, I’m afraid I’m losing my memory and if it goes so will my identity!”

I called him doctor, I didn’t know if he was or not, but it sounded more like he would know what he is talking about if I called him doctor!

“What makes you think this is not just normal aging?”

“It happens too often and it makes me feel powerless.”

“That’s you choosing to feel powerless, I will help you “unchoose” that perception. What you need is a new mindset!”

Now I was getting confused.

“What is a mindset?”

The Freud look alike cleared his throat and said:

“Mindsets are beliefs, perceptions and attitudes; in your case your beliefs and attitudes about memory and aging. How you think about things, negatively or positively.”

“Doctor, I know memory erodes with age, I just turned seventy, does this mean, I am declining in my cognitive functioning?”

I thought I’d throw that in, “cognitive functioning”, so he wouldn’t think I’m  a dummy.

Freud continued: “Our beliefs are the rules and values that guide us in our daily activities.”

Then I went off the deep end.

“Doctor, I know my memory is failing and I can’t stand it.”

“Relax!”

“I can’t relax, this is awful, I can’t remember my neighbor’s name or the items I needed at the grocery store. My memory is bad and it is only going to get worse!”

I started breathing heavy!

“You’re going to exhaust yourself, if you don’t calm down,” said Freud.

The doctor stared at me like he could see into my soul!

“Okay, lets get this therapy on the road. I’m going to give you an event and I want you to respond to it. Ready? Here we go:

“Oh, I forgot two items from the grocery store!”

I blurted out: “Oh god, I’m losing it. Could this be the beginning of dementia?”

“Now see, your response should have been:

“Well, I remembered the other eight items. I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

I nodded.

Freud smiled and said: “Now I’m going to teach you a little memory trick. Sometimes there is an emotional component to your forgetfulness. Suppose you can’t recall the name of a person you couldn’t get along with. You remember your anger but you can’t remember the name. You need to counter the anger with humor. Think of a funny thing about that person. Humor encourages memory function. The anger response is gone and you can refocus on the name you want to recall. This trick is called, Distract So You Can Remember.”

“My brain was aching with all that information.”

Freud said: “I think you will be alright now. There probably isn’t a lot of things you forget.”

As I was leaving I said:

“There’s three things I forget a lot, names and faces and now I’ve forgotten the other thing!!!

The sign on the door said, “The Oldies Club”, Must Be At Least Three Score and Ten.

I opened the door and entered a large dimly lit room where six people, three men and three women, were sitting in a circle in deep discussion. They all stopped talking and looked at me. I explained I was thinking of joining the club and would they mind if I sat in the back and listened for a while.

They all smiled at me and nodded, pointing to a chair in the corner.

They introduced themselves to me. First, there was Dave, who had sparse grey hair and blemishes and age spots on his hands and face. He had two canes hanging on the back of his chair.

Then there was Tom, balding with deep wrinkles covering his face. But he had a twinkle in his eyes. He also had a cane hanging on his chair.

And then Jim, he had a big smile but it was almost toothless. He was in a wheelchair.

There was Martha, heavy-set and jolly with strands of grey hair hanging down on her face. She had a Zimmer frame parked at the side of her chair.

Next was Alice, she stammered when she talked and she had a thin face etched with wrinkles.

Lastly there was Mabel, her abundant grey hair was tied into a bun and she had a stern face. She reminded me of one of my old school teachers. She had an extremely thick cane hanging on her chair.

They all turned away from me and Dave said: “Okay, back to our discussion, what was it now? Oh yes, the positive self-talk needed to counter the fear of death!”

“I don’t fear death, it’s just the sickness, pain and suffering before death that bothers me,” said Mabel.

Alice spoke up: “Yes, I agree with Mabel. There is no pain in death, just nothingness.”

“Well, what bothers me,” said Jim, “ is the fear of not existing anymore, you know, a permanent end to life.”

‘I fear the unknown aspect of death, is there an afterlife or what will happen after death?” said Martha.

Tom commented: “What I fear is the loneliness connected with losing my loved ones and friends and I’m left!”

Alice started coughing which interrupted the discussion. She took some pills. She then took a deep breath and mumbled: “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could have a peaceful natural death?”

“Peaceful natural death, what’s that?” said Dave angrily. “All the oldies I’ve seen die have been sick, crippled and in the throes of dementia. They were soiling their beds and they were lonely and enduring extreme pain. It’s a slow agonizing process, which I want to avoid!”

They all stared at Dave, some shaking their heads and some nodding.

“What are you suggesting, Dave?” said Martha.

“If I end up like I just described, I would want to choose to die instead of enduring the lack of dignity and extreme pain of the dying process. I think we have the right to choose the time and conditions of our death!”

Jim said: “I feel the same way as Dave. I had a dream the other night that I was trapped in my wheelchair. I was in pain and I was slowly losing my memory. It was a terrible nightmare!”

Dave continued: “What I’m suggesting is called Self-Deliverance. It’s the taking of your own life to escape the suffering, pain and loss of your quality of life.”

“It’s not a nice thing to think about,” said Tom, “but you would want to stay alive as long as you enjoy your life.”

“Of course Tom, that’s what I mean, if you have your hobbies and people around you and can control your pain, your quality of life would still be there. So, consequently, you naturally would want to continue on as long as possible.”

Alice spoke up, slowly slurring her words: “I am in the first stages of dementia. I know it’s progressive and eventually I will lose all quality of life, but I don’t know if I could end my own life or be assisted!”

“That’s entirely your choice, Alice. All I’m saying is, we should all have the choice of when and how we die.”

Jim started laughing and said: “All I know is, I know I’m old because it takes longer for me to rest than to get tired!”

“Leave it to you Jim, to lighten things up.”

Tom joined in: “Every afternoon I have a happy hour just like my pub, it’s called a NAP!”

The whole club laughed.

Dave ended the discussion: “We all have to tell ourselves that we will stay alive as long as we ENJOY our life. It’s what we say to ourselves in response to any situation that determines our moods and feelings.”

Then Dave turned to me and said: “Well, are you going to join our club?”

As I walked out the door, I said: “I’m only 69, maybe I’ll see you in a year!”

As I was sipping my beer, I was looking at the oil paintings behind the bar at my favorite watering hole. In walked my Long Lost Cousin. He hopped up on a green padded stool and said:

“I’m a little depressed since I celebrated my 65^th birthday!”

“Bartender, give my cousin a whiskey. Now, why are you depressed?”

“Well, I read an article on the 50 signs of aging and I had all of them!” He took a sip of his whiskey.

“I probably would have them all too, but I accept “What Is” and get on with my life.”

“But cousin, now that I’m retired and don’t have to go to work anymore, I don’t want to age so fast!”

“Aging is natural, the progression of life, it’s a reality!”

“But why does it have to happen so quick that it sneaks up on you? I looked in the mirror this morning when I was naked and said to my wife:

“I’m old, fat and wrinkled. Cheer me up. Pay me a compliment.”

“Well,” she said, “Your eyesight is still good!” This is what I have to put up with!”

“Well, my cousin, it’s the effect of energy on your body. Like rain, sunshine and wind, it’s physical erosion. Wear and tear!”

“You’re making me feel worse than my wife does.”

“That’s just erosion from external sources. There’s internal erosion as well. Metabolism is the machinery of chemistry, billions of chemical reactions in the body, which drives life. It creates order out of chaos!”

“All this is going on in my body?”

“Yes, these chemical reactions over time create internal trash which accumulate over time. Cells die, some get renewed, but not all. It’s all part of living. With age our body becomes less efficient at detoxifying!”

“But cousin, I’m getting to be a physical and mental wreck! I’m stiff, losing my hair and I groan when I bend down. I forget names and I fall asleep in front of the TV after a glass of wine. It’s terrible!”

We sat in silence, drinking and staring at the oil paintings behind the bar. My LLC then spoke and broke the mood.

“And the article ended with this alarming statement: Aging fosters sickness, pain, suffering, dementia and makes us more likely to meet the grim reaper quicker!”

“Boy, you’re a bundle of sunshine!”

“But I don’t want to die faster. I want to delay it!”

“When it’s your time, it’s your time, nothing you can do about it. I don’t fear it because I don’t think there is anything in death; it is just eternal nothingness, oblivion.”

“Now whose a bundle of sunshine?” said my cousin grimly.

“Well cousin, we are growing older right here on these green padded stools!”

My cousin had a glazed look in his eyes and said:

“In my twenties, I never thought about growing older. I was in peak physical condition. In my thirties and forties, I got smarter and was still in good shape. But now in my sixties, I feel the negative effects of age: aches and pains, forgetfulness, wrinkles, grey hair or no hair! Cousin, can we stop aging?”

I smiled and ordered two more drinks for us.

“So cousin, you want a CURE for aging?”

“Yes, three score and ten is not enough time!”

“Maybe someday there will be a cure for aging. None of us want to spend our final years in physical pain and suffering from mental decline.”

My cousin gulped his whiskey in one go. And as he headed out the door, he said:

“All I know is that I don’t know how I got over the hill without making it to the top!”