Looking Beyond

I turned 60 this past week. I had spent the last few days of my 50s without great introspection, and dived into my 60th birthday sans regret. I should have anticipated some entry turbulence. The birthday cards were nice enough: Donna Collum’s card got the “Best Sentiment” award. Multiple heart-warming calls from the Fusillos in Atlanta; and a surprise telephone call from Sister Evalyn, doyen of the New York stage.

Then I took a late lunch with a friend, Sam Akers, on Wednesday afternoon, at The Davenport. Said lunch consisted of three Martinis, and I should never, ever have had the third. (Why at my age haven’t I fully absorbed the “Two’s the Limit” Rule?) These of course are real Martinis, made with gin. Barbara’s still laughing about my post-drinking telephone call to her: between my hiccoughing and my giggling, she wonders how I got home at all. Falling into bed – by myself – was the last thing I recall, Your Honor.

Thursday evening with the regular Mo Mong crowd, I had two more Martinis, but maintained a moderate sobriety.

Last evening, Saturday, Barbara took me, Georgia and Sam Akers out to Le Colombe D’Or for an elegant dinner. When we arrived at Sam and Georgia’s home for pre-dinner drinks, I pointed at Sam and said, “Don’t let that man come near me with a Martini glass in his hand!” Had champers instead.

The dinner was excellent. I am so grateful that Barbara put the evening together. Sam and Georgia presented me with a lovely bottle of Dom Perignon champagne for the birthday. Don’t have much in the way of wisdom to impart…see the Martini Rule mentioned above.

A story from Rob Schoenbeck illustrates the dangers I may face in the years ahead. One night an 87-year-old woman came home from Bingo to find her 92-year-old husband in bed with another woman. She became violent and ended up pushing him off the balcony of their 20th-floor assisted-living apartment...killing him instantly. Brought before the court on charge of murder, the judge asked her if she had anything to say in her defense. She began coolly, "Yes, your honor, I figured that at 92, if he could have sex, he could fly."