“When I get older losing my hair,
Many years from now,
Will you still be sending me a valentine
Birthday greetings bottle of wine?
If I’d been out till quarter to three
Would you lock the door,
Will you still need me, will you still feed me,
When I’m sixty-four?
oo oo oo oo oo oo oo oooo
You’ll be older too, (ah ah ah ah ah)
And if you say the word,
I could stay with you.
I could be handy mending a fuse
When your lights have gone.
You can knit a sweater by the fireside
Sunday mornings go for a ride.
Doing the garden, digging the weeds,
Who could ask for more?
Will you still need me, will you still feed me,
When I’m sixty-four?
Every summer we can rent a cottage
In the Isle of Wight, if it’s not too dear
We shall scrimp and save
Grandchildren on your knee
Vera, Chuck, and Dave
Send me a postcard, drop me a line,
Stating point of view.
Indicate precisely what you mean to say
Yours sincerely, Wasting Away.
Give me your answer, fill in a form
Mine for evermore
Will you still need me, will you still feed me,
When I’m sixty-four?
Whoo!”
What could Paul McCartney possibly have known about being 64 when, at the age of 16, he wrote (co-credited to John Lennon) one of his most famous songs, “When I’m Sixty-Four”? The Beatles later recorded the tune when McCartney was 24, and, from that youthful vantage, 64 could only seem a time of cute, dithering romance as a hedge against loneliness (“You’ll be older too/And if you say the word/I could stay with you”), dead-end domesticity (“Doing the garden, digging the weeds,/Who could ask for more”), and a steady descent into mortality (“Yours sincerely, wasting away”)—all with a wink and a nudge. London was swinging, and the Beatles were the avatars of a seismic youthquake. Come on—who was ever going to get old?
Well I may not feel old but as of today “When I’m 64” is my theme song for the next 365 days. Yep – I’ve reached that Beatles milestone and the only phrases that resonate with me are “grandchildren on your knee” and “knit a sweater by the fireside”.
I’m not sure how I’m supposed to act at 64 but then acting conventionally has never been one of my strong suits. I much prefer to behave according to my own instincts instead of what society or the media deems appropriate for the almost-Medicare-age group. In fact I’ve already received an e-card from a friend that said “Here’s to another year of complete disregard for age-appropriate developmental milestones.” She knows me well.
I’ve had a fabulous time celebrating this day already – Ralph and the girls were here for a long weekend and Saturday night we gathered at Tammy and Steve’s along with Cindy, Corey, Tarah and Bella for a wonderful birthday dinner. Cindy made a 7-layer Mexican dip which we enjoyed along with beer prior to dinner. The meal was a long-time favorite of home-made Mexican Villa tacos complete with MV taco shells, white American cheese and MV taco and enchilada sauces. And to top it all off – as if we weren’t already stuffed to the gills – Ralph made a turtle ice cream pie complete with real whipped cream. Yum, Yum!
And they appropriately decorated it with a little bicycle.
Tonight Burl is taking me to Ocean Zen for my Birthiversary – where not only do I get to celebrate my birthday but we also mark 7 years of wedded bliss.
I started the day with my coffee and a plethora of birthday and anniversary cards which arrived in the mail last week . I’ve been saving them to open en mass but since my mom taught me to share, I let Burl open the anniversary cards. I’ve also gotten several ecards and Facebook greetings. Between now and Ocean Zen I have a fabulous day planned (in no particular order) – paint the woodwork in the dining room, go for a 2-mile run, take the dog for a walk, pry up particle board that some dork GLUED to the subflooring in the dining room and work on Christmas jumpers for Julia and Lydia.
But first I need to hereby declare that I am now 46 and dyslexic! That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.




