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The upside-down world
of a former youngster
By PROF. GORDON GREB
of TheColumnists.com
This is what Professor Greb found when rummaging around in an old trunk looking for records of his travel and meal expenses while preparing his tax returns. He spotted a worn and tattered notebook amidst the clutter of his office. When he opened it he found a diary that could have been written by Socrates 2,400 years ago, since that Greek philosopher often advised everyone to “know thyself.” Prof. Greb finally recognized the writing as his own. He had written it and then forgotten all about it. It seemed quite apropos since he lately has been depressed trying to remember the Stock Market Crash of l929, the Great Depression, World War II, Rock ‘n’ Roll, the Beatles, Vietnam, and W’s War. He reasoned maybe this diary should be treasured as some kind of insight into a mind gradually fading away. It is in that spirit that we publish a portion of it here today.
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Tuesday, February 6, 2001
Lately I’ve learned something shockingly new about myself. I’m beginning to forget small things. It is frustrating because these are mental losses of trivia which used to come easily to mind. My memory was good all of my life and my secret ambition was to write an autobiography someday. Remembering enough to set down a volume of interesting stories I took for granted. But now I realize it’s something, which can’t be postponed.
Noting that today is Ronald Reagan’s 90th birthday, I am forced to consider a worse case scenario, which would be Alzheimer’s disease, a terrible affliction which eventually robs a person of all he once knew and returns the mind to babyhood. I hope my condition is something less. I pray it’s nothing serious, as what comes up missing in memory right now so far hasn’t been anything too important, just names of people and places which are not part of my regular life anyway; such as, movie stars of the l930s and 40s, or street names in Chico which may or may not be close to where I live. Once upon a time facts and dates and names of people came trippingly to my tongue and without any furrowing of brow. Now it’s somewhat surprising that I have to struggle, use word association or other tricks to bring these things to mind.
Wednesday, February 7, 2001
Today I can safely say, “I’ve got six months to go.” To what? Well, my next birthday, for one thing. While this particular month and day in year 2001 is seemingly an ordinary day of the year, it actually marks the exact mid-point between my birthdays–-the time six months ago when I reached age 79 and the day coming up this year when I will attain the age of 80. There’s no guarantee I’ll get there, but the odds seem to say it’s close enough to begin planning. I might as well look forward to its happening and then see exactly what happens. The other day I met a lady on a bus who will be 81 this year. She said, “It’s funny but I don’t feel different from when I was young. I feel the same inside.” She had to use a cane, walked with great difficulty, and needed help getting on and off the bus. Obviously her physical condition had not changed her self-image. Will my thoughts be the same? Do advancing years ever change how you feel about yourself? Will attaining 80 be significant? Knowing there are people now in their 90s living a happy life keeps me going and hoping for the same kind of good future.
When I was very young, 40 seemed without question to be an advanced age. But on reaching it, I like most people easily regarded it as the start of middle age. Because we keep busy, the years go by and then suddenly, there you are, having to face up to the fact you’re nearly 60. This age can seem to be “good news” if you’re healthy because of the new possibilities offered by retirement, which, for an American with a good pension plan, means the freedom to do whatever you’ve always wanted to do in your spare time. Thus you don’t bemoan becoming 60 or 65 because you are indulging yourself in a grand variety of leisure time activities, and joining others your age in doing the same, which for many old people means the first real freedom they’ve ever had.
The term Old Age Pensioner (which has been used by the British to describe their old folks) hardly applies in the United States if you’re happy and healthy at age 70 and the thought of 80 seems far, far away. Well, if the years go by and if Old Father Time is kind, you laugh at the pages being torn from your book of life. If you have been really blessed, you’ve inherited good genes, linked up with a good family doctor, have regular medical checkups, choose a proper diet, engage in regular exercising, and luckily missed out on disabling or fatal accidents, the possibility of reaching 80 looms no longer as something far into the future but a real possibility. With luck and pluck (as Horatio Alger, Jr., famous boys book author, would put it) it’s another age I hope to reach. Recording my thoughts along the way and reflecting on what went before are the objectives of this diary.
Sunday, February 18, 2001
Thoughts. I’ve now decided to put them down willy nilly as they come. Attempting to write perfect prose often stops me from writing as I try to make every sentence perfect. I lose the flow. So I'll just let the thinking roll and come back for proper editing later. Right now I'm thinking of creating my own website (courtesy of Homestead.com) on the Internet. Have found some very good personal pages. Realize the great big world out there is filled with people of all kinds. Some are greatly talented. many are not. One needs to pick and choose to find what’s truly worthwhile. I realize, after looking at a number of personal web pages–some for family associations, teen-agers, or folks starting small businesses--a vast number of people are doing it. But why do we do it?.
Ego. Is that why we do it? Been thinking of doing an autobiography in three parts: My life as (1) Ego, (2) Super Ego and (3) Id. While borrowing from Freud, I will give each of these categories my own interpretation.
Ego, for example, is my ordinary self and the one I hope is presented to the outside world for approval, self-esteem, and various human rewards. Most autobiographies are in this category, where the inner self is carefully guarded and one puts his/her best foot forward, not telling everything frankly and openly. Generally speaking, you would publish your life story as a book, reveal it in an interview, or even put it on a web site to express and protect your ego. You hope feedback is positive, not negative.
Example: I wanted to be a cartoonist as a boy because they made big money doing something which was enjoyable and fun. When a nationally syndicated newspaper published my prize-winning drawing one Sunday and I got fan mail from young people (mostly girls) from several parts of the country, it was a terrific boost to my ego. How terrific to be famous! And I was only 11 years old.
Super Ego, to continue, would be the conscience you’ve developed in a lifetime. Some have more of it than others, but it is the inner voice judging and cautioning your current thoughts and behavior, as well as those of the past. Writers who give readers a bit of this thinking often attract readers because it’s exciting to cross the barriers into the mind of others. James Harvey Robinson summed up his life as a historian showing how people generally acquire attitudes, opinions, and judgments, which they cling to tenaciously, despite the fact many of them were acquired accidentally. See his book, The Mind in the Making (1921). My Super Ego probably is the result of Super Parenting, where Mom and Pop told me what was right and what was wrong. They created the Jiminy Cricket voice, aided by my religious upbringing (Roman Catholic), formal public school education, friends, relatives and associates, and lifelong reading.
The Id is what we know least about. Most autobiographies skip its influence entirely, unless seeking to attract readers by sensational revelations. Here is where one finds what the Greek philosophers call the appetites–hunger for food, sex, pleasure, entertainment, power. These powerful forces, which cause a lot of turmoil and anxiety, as the Super Ego argues “No” when the Id says “Yes” is the hardest to reveal. We seldom tell about these powerful forces. Sometimes we don’t even know we have them.
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Prof. Greb has been writing ever since--and is now thinking about turning 90 pretty much the same way he was thinking about turning 80 when he began this diary. We keep telling him to consider himself the Pablo Casals of Print, an artist who can still dazzle us past age 90. Anyway, he still has a few years to get ready for passing that milestone. We hope to be sharing his visions with our readers when he does. |
©2007 by Gordon Greb. The illustration is from IMSI's Master Clips Collection, 1895 Francisco Blvd. East, San Rafael, CA, 94901-5506, USA. This column first posted April 2, 2007.
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