Oldies who still have a Clint in their eye

Ihad cause this week to ponder two of the 20th century’s finest contributions to Western culture. The first was Dylan Thomas’s passionate exhortation to face death on one’s own terms in his poem Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night.

He writes in the first verse:

“Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

I’ve reached an age where I’m hanging out with people who are raging against the dying of the light, and it’s inspiring.

Being at the tail end of the Baby Boomer generation I’ve watched with interest as the vanguard transitioned out of full-time work and charged into the golden years, hellbent on doing the things they wanted to do instead of what they had to do.

I’ve just spent a few days on a friend’s yacht. Because Steve runs a successful business, he doesn’t get out on it as much as he would like, but we’ve been making plans for years to one day sail to Thursday Island in the Torres Strait, listening to Seaman Dan songs along the way. It’ll happen, because both of us are determined not to go gentle into that good night.

Also on board was Steve’s mate John, a man in his mid-70s. He’s a skilled sailor but his age is starting to declare itself. But that’s what’s so inspirational – seeing the “70 is the new 50” vibe in action.

All went well on our cruise around the islands of southern Moreton Bay, until the final minutes.

Easing into the berth John and I got ready with the mooring lines, waiting for the yacht to get close enough so we could step gently on to the concrete dock. But John, alarmingly, decided he would jump early.

This leap would have challenged much younger joints, so John never stood a chance. He hit the dock, his knees buckled and he pitched forward on to the murky waters of the marina.

That’s when I recalled the second great example of 20th century culture – Clint Eastwood’s immortal line in Magnum Force: “A man’s got to know his limitations.”