The Columnist Manifesto

Don't forget: you will become an old person if you don't die first. Here's my Dad, a couple of weeks ago.


I like this photo of my Dad. The expression is not a goofy expression, but rather his expression of distate or disapproval -- I forget what the cause was at that moment, but it was a small passing thing. Note, too, that my Dad is wearing a lai from a theme party he was attending.

My Dad wasn't always this old. Here he is in his 20s:


I love this photo because it shows that buried forever within the old man was this beautiful young man I never knew.

Here he is again, in the Navy in WWII and later, with little Oscar on a skating rink:


I love my Dad, but what if I were asked this question: "Who would you choose as your 'old person role model,' your Dad or Supreme Court Justice John Paul Stevens?" I'm afraid I'd have to say Stevens. As I sit here now, I imagine that I want to be a sharp old guy and take myself seriously. I don't want to be the sort of old person who would allow someone to put a lai on him at a party. I'd rather die...

Stevens

And yet there's nothing silly about my Dad in the photo where he's wearing a lai. I like that photo too, because it shows this certain quality that he has, one that you or I might actually want at his age.

My Dad has the life force. This man, my Dad, would rather be alive than dead -- not everyone who is still alive at his age (he's a few years older than John Paul Stevens) is so sure about that. He has dealt with adversity his whole life and kept going. His wife, my Mom, died almost two years ago, and he has kept going. A lot of elderly people die within a year of their spouse... because they don't still have this life force.

Another one of life's mysteries.