Here at Mission, one of my fellow residents is quite old โ 99.
I thought about that a little bit. So he was born in 1922. Thatโs not right. Surely a 99-year-old was born in the 1800s. Horse-drawn carriages, not Duesenbergs and gin.
I think that way because for so much of life, it was true. But time advances, and now 99 years reaches back only to the Jazz Age, instead of the McKinley administration.
Jason Kottke has something he calls โThe Great Spanโ: โ(T)he link across large periods of history by individual humans.โ The last surviving child of a Civil War veteran (and thus drawing an Army pension) died in 2020. Units of 99 years (sometimes called โBettys,โ after Betty White) definitely qualify, but itโs stunning how quickly that event horizon moves on.
At least to this 60-year-old.
One feels one’s age even better (or should I say- worse) when one has children… Discovering for instance that none of my 3 sons (all in their twenties) have ever heard of Steve McQueen, or Jeanne Moreau: such “celebs” they were, and yet – past and gone, truly! Today was my father’s birthday (Sept. 2nd), he’d have been 121… born as he was, in 1912 (he had “real” memories, of the end of World War I).
I always pay great attention to given names for newly-born children (not just in France, but in Hungary too) – it shows a lot about the country we live in. I’m slightly older than you (67), but feel we’re the same generation. My early childhood was in Washington D.C., so – we’re not that far apart. I often think of you, & always enjoy seeing things you post, wherever that might be. Stay positive, dear Hal, in spite of your ill health: you’ve a friend “over here”, and my mind can fly to Seattle, even without a plane. All my love: Elisabeth.