To my continuing astonishment, I turned 86 this week. And I’m glad to report that it was a joy, despite the wretched Covid-19. We were up in the Berkshires most of the week, working in my lovely study, biking in the beautiful fall air and – one night – going into town to have a tiny celebration.
We went – Hilary and I and our beloved pal, Marnie Pillsbury – to a club I’ve belonged to for over 50 years. When I joined I thought it was to old-line and stuffy. Now that I am one of the oldest members, I love it.
We’ve had some big celebrations here over the years, and have become close to the terrific chef and some others. The only place you can eat here, these days, is on the terrace. Not exactly a hardship. It’s on 62nd Street and the Park and surely one of the nicest places to eat in town. Wonderful views! Six years ago we had a big party indoors with lots of caviar for some 130 people. We asked the lovely chef if he could come up with some for the three of us, on the terrace, on short notice. He could. And a splendid meal. And a bottle of super wine. Not bad.
I know a bunch of people in their 80’s (naturally) and some of them are not having a nice time. I realize how very lucky I am. I’ve had some weird accidents but have had pretty much perfect health, all along which is a rare blessing. Still bicycling hard…in some of the prettiest biking places in the country. Still working out six days a week. Still drinking a hair too much. And still socializing some – in the country, on the terrace. And the key to all this is luck AND a lunatic exercise regimen.
I drive everyone nuts with this point BUT life can be a joy in your 80’s. IF you do some stuff that sounds hard but isn’t really. SO worth it. Some day soon, I’ll go flying over the waterfall – absolutely astonished. But I can’t hear it yet. Goody.