Having completed my 68th trip around the sun on this Little Blue Dot, and after dicussing things with Claude, I’ve learned that I’m at the “young-old” range of late adulthood. According to Claude, the next stage of my adulthood will be the “‘old-old’ years of advanced aged typically considered to start in the mid-70s.”
AI Claude reminds me that “while 68 isn’t a major birthday celebration age, it does signify transitioning deeper into retirement years while still being part of the relatively healthy and independent ‘young-old’ phase of late adulthood.”
Interestingly, and almost sounding human, AI Claude wraps up my query about my 68th birthday and tells me that “it’s simply another year to appreciate reaching with wisdom gained.
If 68 years of wisdom gained could be laid before me in the physical realm, how much of that wisdom, if any, would I recognize as being my own? And this, my fellow photographers, is a question best left unanswered.
It’s a fact that folks my age will have to work twice as hard at something than someone say, in their 20s. That fact has been very difficult for me to accept lately. If there were a miracle drug for restoring my prefrontal cortex’s capabilities back to what they were in my 20s and 30s I know I’d probably qualify for a prescription.
I’m struggling with knowing if my photos are good enough to post here on my website. If you’ve visited more than once I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’ve not added any new ones lately. You might think that I’d not be bothered by it at my age. After all, I’m 68 and pretty much nothing gets to me anymore; except the imposter syndrome.
I’ve had the RF 100-500mm telephoto lens a little over two months and probably amassed several hundred bird photos during that time. Out of those, you see here on my website what I think (thought?) are the best ones. But each time I open a cardinal or woodpecker folder to study images that might be worthy for my portfolio, I’m disappointed.
Perhaps I should stop zooming in 200% before editing!
Writing as a degree hasn’t proven to be very beneficial to me. My major in college was English Creative Writing Nonfiction (Bachelor of Science). I had aspirations to write a weekly gardening column after graduating. And I actually did, for close to 7 years. It paid for a night out with my wife once a week or so. I was okay with it while it lasted and stuck it out until small town newspapers began to disappear thanks to online pubs. Thus began the search for a new job, at an age where it was next to impossible to make an impression (with graying hair, I can probably thank ageism for the missed opportunities).
I kept at it until finally securing a part time job driving a school bus. It paid a little better than writing a gardening column and I stuck it out for close to 10 years, during which time I was also a stay-at-home dad. After the kids were out of the house and on their own (I’d let them come back if they wanted to, not sure my wife would agree though) I continued as a school bus driver for several more years.
Now that I’m retired I don’t worry much about a career. Retired from what you might wonder. From all the stick-to-itiveness jobs I’ve had over the course of 45 years. I find it odd that none carried the title “Photographer.” But I’m sticking to it anyway and calling myself an artist that uses a camera. Maybe I’ll sell a print or two one of these days, if not, I’ll continue on as an artist with plenty of stick-to-itiveness.
