Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda

In a not too long ago publication from AARP, Garrison Keillor wrote that as we baby boomers cross over into our 60s we should let go of our regrets.

He said we should stop pining for the sweetheart that got away fifty years ago.

Okay. I'm remembering the article, but you can read it by clicking on the link.

Without shooting myself in the foot, I think that's something I should have written an answer to, so that we boomers don't forget everything that made us what we are.

If I get to be an old man, having already hit that 5-0 milestone, will I regret that I hadn't spent more time at the keyboard?

Okay, all you people who know me wouldn't be surprised by the PF Fliers post on a test blog.

What you'd all likely be saying is, how could we ever pry him away from that keyboard.

I have several writing* projects going now and they've all gotten deadlines written in the sand.

Despite Keillor's admonition to "Make a pile of your regrets and put a match to them," I have this inner voice telling me to preserve at least the emotions of the memories of "the opportunities that sailed away."

One project simmering is a remembrance of Junior High school. And despite what you may think of the topic, I squarely described Ms. Battleaxe, the woman I had for Social Studies two years in a row. A colleague who I've known since 5th grade actually had chills from my mention of her name.

Then there was the time we were held in in afternoon home room. It turned out that TeenAngel, another friend since 5th grade, had put his hand through the stairwell glass door and blood, apparently, was everywhere.

You've already probably read about Billy Newtner's Bus Rides since that was published so long ago. I wonder now, if that kid went on to become a billionaire somewhere ("Change your destiny, Peggy Sue.") Or a serial killer?

A friend of mine who was already reeling from a couple of heart attacks kept pushing himself to write like there was no tomorrow. He didn't sleep much, but he sure cranked out the copy. He virtually died at his typewriter.

I guess he got to the point where he realized he had so much to say and so little time to say it. He wanted to use every waking moment.

I'm beginning more and more to see where he stood.

"I shall be telling this with a sigh ... Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I," I took a digital photo and blogged about it.

Seize the moment. Seize the day.



Copyright © 2006 by Anthony Buccino, all rights reserved.

Your Life: Tips for Passing 50 by Garrison Keillor

* Buccino has embarked on a return to his lighter-side writing in a new project of remembrance essays, beginning with junior high school. Last Lap to Fifty is expected to be a four-volume series. (This was named Last Lap to Forty and may well end up being Last Lap to Sixty.)