Time for my annual birthday column. This birthday is a biggie. I’m 65, what used to be the official retirement age.
Ah but it is not to be. Ronald Reagan, may he rest in peace, reformed social security in 1983, raising the retirement age to 67. It went into effect in 2022. Just my luck. Now I won’t get any of my money back until I am 66 and two-thirds.
How clever to raise the retirement age and not make it effective for 40 years. I was 25 at the time and not particularly focused on my retirement benefits. But my how time flies.
I’m always tweaking my response to “how are you doing.” People do not give this enough thought. It is by far the number one question you will ever be asked. Your response needs to be creative and meaningful.
For years my favorite came from my paternal grandmother Lyda Will Wyatt, “tolerable.” “Hanging in there” is another personal favorite. I often use “well” in opposition to the ungrammatical “good” but it just confuses people. Well what?
Lately my favorite is “better than I deserve” because it sums up my perspective. Do I want more? Definitely. Have I had bumps in the road? Innumerable. But do I deserve all the riches I enjoy? Most definitely not!
I certainly don’t have the smarts to invent the air conditioner. Yet I enjoy its benefits every day. That’s better than I deserve. (As an aside, I think the birthday of William Carrier, inventor of the air conditioner, should be a regional holiday.)
Because of the division of labor and our free market system, every ordinary man and woman gets to ride on the shoulders of genius inventors and entrepreneurs, enjoying the fruits of their labor. That’s definitely better than we deserve. It’s also a reason not to impose draconian income taxes on the successful. That would be killing the goose that lays the golden egg. I want all those geniuses fully motivated.
When I was young, I worked around the country. As my father wisely told me, “I want you to make your mistakes on someone else’s dime.” I worked in New York, Boston, Los Angeles, Dallas, Philadelphia and Cocoa Beach, Florida. With a Harvard diploma, I gained entry to the world of mega corporations and big finance. I was an investment banker on Wall Street.
In the end, I decided to come home to Mississippi and join my father in the family business. Being a seventh generation Mississippi eight times over didn’t hurt. I had Mississippi and ink in my blood. I couldn’t resist it.
I was keenly aware that this could limit my career. But the corporate world was so big and impersonal. You’re always moving from city to city chasing your next promotion. There was no chance of putting down local roots. I wanted something else.
I’ll never forget crossing over the Natchez bridge over the Mississippi River entering Mississippi after driving back home from Los Angeles in my 1965 Mustang (which I still drive today!)
It was a perfect fall day, cool and clear, as I crossed the bridge my eye filled with tears as I listened to the lyrics of a Jackson Brown song, Our Lady of the Well:
“Across my home has grown the shadow of a cruel and senseless hand
Though in some strong hearts the love and truth remain
And it has taken me this distance and a woman's smile to learn
That my heart remains among them and to them I must return
“But it's a long way that I have come
Across the sand, to find you here, among these people in the sun
Where your children will be born
You'll watch them as they run
Oh, it's so far, the other way my life has gone.”
I knew in my gut something was lost in the mega corporate life. What good is it to gain the whole world and lose your soul? Merging companies into bigger and bigger monopolies didn’t seem right. Small family business did.
So I came back home, married a farmer’s daughter from Taylorsville and became a Mississippi business owner.
How ironic that I now find myself suing Google for antitrust in one of the biggest antitrust lawsuits in history. Big Tech is taking over the world, squashing local dissent. I feel like I am part of the Resistance fighting The Empire.
My birthday week was nothing special. My life has just been too busy to plan a big party. I had a great dinner with lifelong friends at Spice Avenue (I love Indian food.) These are the roots I was looking for.
A few days later Sam and Leila Lane and Bob and Kay Archer joined Ginny and me at the Mayflower Friday night. I think I knew everyone in the entire restaurant. There’s something so very special, so old Jackson, so small world about the Mayflower on Friday night. I’ve known the waitresses for decades. I put the $10 to tip Larry for parking my car in my front pocket before I even left the house.
As we gobbled onion rings, crab claws and fresh fish, we talked on and on about good times, funny tales and how blessed we are to be in Mississippi. Bob and Kaye are in my church and Sunday school class. Sam has been my banker for years. Roots.
The next day I golfed at Whisper Lake. Its owner, Randy Watkins, has been a friend for years. We had no wait.
On number 8, I had a 12-foot birdie putt as Ryan Plotner, his son Reed, Greg Wynne and Todd Davis looked on. I said, "Boys, let me show you how to sink a birdie putt." Then, looking up with hands stretched to the sky, I prayed, "Lord I know I'm a sinner and have messed up your wonderful world but I need some help right now sinking this birdie putt." Of course, it goes in. Then Reed says, "Isn't that cheating?" To which I answer, "Kinda sorta. That's why I don't do it often."
That night we headed to an engagement party at Ashby and Suzie Foote’s house. Delicious food which they prepared themselves. So much fun. Jesse Robinson, who has toured the world, was playing his $6,000 Lucille guitar. I said to him, “Jesse, I’ve known you for 20 years,” to which he replied. “Probably longer.”
Bruce Howard, who also toured the world as Bobby Rush’s drummer, sang vocals. We all joined in for the bluesy “Summertime When the Living is Easy.” One of the guests, an accomplished harmonica player, added just the right touch.
On Sunday, more golf, followed by shut-in communion for Ernie Strahan at St. Catherine’s. Jeff Weill and I praised God for Ernie’s complete recovery from a fall-induced broken leg. He was walking perfectly at age 96. Mississippi is one of the most spiritual places in the world. I shudder to think of my life as an atheist New York banker.
Thanks for all the happy birthday wishes. My son Lawrence took the cake with his Instagram post: “Happy 65th birthday to my old arch nemesis turned best friend my dad. My dad doesn’t care much for birthdays but I know this one sticks out for him. My dad lost his father (J. O.) when J.O. was 65 a couple of years before I was born. My dad always talked about my grandfather as his hero. Today I feel like my Dad is my hero and I know J. O. is as proud of you as ever.”
All my life I have played guitar, occasionally writing songs. One song I wrote over 20 years ago. As I aged, the key was too high and I quit playing it. Just recently I resurrected it in a lower key. These are the lyrics:
“Golden leaves on a warm fall day, a smiling child to light my way.
Frisbee flying through the air, my dog jumps up and makes the snare.
Laughing smile as the door swing wide, “I won today,” she says with pride.
Open the vent as the engine hums, It’s my 65 Stang that I still can gun.
Bourbon on the rocks on the 19th green, the scores a bit high but not a bad swing.
Summers gone but it never gets cold, I’m not that young but I’m not too old.
Misery is so far from my, a vague concept. Yes I know. Yes I know. That I am lucky.
“Pizza and wine on the screen sun porch, I make a late dinner toast to the sound of warm rain.
Cool clean sheets and a thunderstorm, come roll on over into my arms.
Sushi lunch with the regular crews. Stop on by tonight I we’ll play some tunes. If there’s a breeze late Sunday afternoon, we’ll take the boat on out and watch the moon.
Brewing beer to the Grateful Dead ‘Sweet Sugar Magnolia’ fills my head. Barley grain and a big brew pot a propane flame to make it just so hot. Misery is so far from my, a vague concept. Yes I know. Yes I know. That I am lucky.”
Twenty years later, despite enormous obstacles that I have faced, those lyrics are just perfect. Except for one thing. I should change the word “lucky” to “blessed.”
