Healthy Lifestyle Week 2009 & Retirement Expo speech
Manningham City Council Gallery, 699 Doncaster Road, Doncaster, Melbourne, 6.30 pm Thursday February 26, 2009
As if my wife of 35 years, the ex Australian model of the year Lyndal Moor, and my own good self, didn’t feel old enough already, the New South Wales premier, at Parliament House, launched GROWING OLD (DIS) GRACEFULLY to coincide with the 50th anniversary of SeniorsÃ¢â‚¬â„¢ Week!
Yet one of the advantages of being seniors is that we can say what we like – which is precisely what Lyndal and I and all other contributors have done in this book.
Of course truth goes both ways. Apart from the fact that, as each year rolls by, I seem increasingly to resemble an old dog – half deaf and a quarter blind ,, the state of my physique is not improved, as a comedian friend remarked, by me eating like a man with two arseholes.
Not surprisingly, other bits of the body, to which I will not refer this evening, are sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly, giving up the ghost.
Then there is what appears to be emotional and mental deterioration.
Recently I said to my friend and fellow contributor, Gerard Henderson of the Sydney Institute, “I think IÃ¢â‚¬â„¢m becoming more neurotic. To which Gerard replied, “That’s scarcely possible!
It will not come as any revelation to those who know me that GIVE is not my middle name. One evening at Brisbane’s peculiarly named Mater Mothers Hospital (as you would know, Ã¢â‚¬ËœmaterÃ¢â‚¬â„¢ means Ã¢â‚¬ËœmotherÃ¢â‚¬â„¢) after I presented a female acquaintance whoÃ¢â‚¬â„¢d just had a baby, with a less than expensive gift, I inexplicably broke into tears.
A mate explained the situation thus. “You were, he said, Overwhelmed by your own sensitivity.
This morning before I flew down to Melbourne, Lyndal reminded me of a scathing review of my work written by one of mine many enemies from Queensland. This devastating attack concluded, “Ross Fitzgerald is one of Australia’s most prolific, yet least read, authors.
The sad fact is that, in many ways, Lyndal agreed.
Yet at this evening’s function, I hold a shy hope that GROWING OLD (DIS) GRACEFULLY and my forthcoming co-authored books – the 150th Anniversary history of the Sunshine State, MADE IN QUEENSLAND and the history of alcohol in Australia, UNDER THE INFLUENCE -, might all buck the trend and be both well received and actually widely read.
It was a joy to edit this book of 35 essays on retirement and ageing, whose contributors range from the 84-year-old communist, Hal Alexander, to the comic actor Gerry Connolly and the founder of The Federation Press, Diane Young, both of whom have just nudged the big Five O.
Contributors to the book, the initials of which Lyndal pointed out spell GOD (i.e. G. O. D) include committed Christians like the Brisbane-based poet and novelist, Phil Brown, and the chairperson of the New South Wales Parole Board, Ian Pike, as well as less certain believers, including noted film producer Jim McElroy, through to unambiguous atheists like myself and Lyndal and the marvelous Margaret Fink.
All of GOD’s writers, in their different ways, demonstrate that being fifty and over is anything but easy and that, to paraphrase the American playwright Lillian Hellmann, old (er) age is not for wimps.
A number of contributors confide that, slowly or suddenly, they woke up one morning and the realization dawned that they were growing older, if not old. Yet when push comes to shove, all contributors to the book manifestly value life itself and their part within it, while most, if not all, believe that in some ways (many of them unpredictable) life can get even better.
Yet despite some signs of physical decline, most contributors to GROWING OLD (DIS) GRACEFULLY reveal the presence in their lives of hope, trust, commitment, persistence, good humour, and, perhaps above all, the resilient capacity to cop whatever life dishes out in the twilight, or at least the second half (or final quarter), of their lives.
But don’t be mistaken, physical and mental signs are there indeed; in my own case often in spades.
Part of my current angst concerns time and its passing, something I try to control by always carrying a diary. In it, I write a daily “shopping list , people to meet, places to go, things to write, to do and buy. Indeed each year I go through at least two diaries, sometimes three. When, as happened once in London, I actually lost my diary, I was, to use that peculiar phrase, “beside myself”, and had to try and remember, as it happened quite unsuccessfully, all the entries for the rest of that year.
So growing old is not something I’m dealing with all that well.
One of the many suggestions made by self-appointed experts about how to cope with ageing is to deliberately not remember crucial dates. In my case this is impossible. How can I forget my birthday, Christmas Day; or Lyndal’s which is September 11 (what most of the world now calls 9/11), or even our wedding anniversary which appropriately enough, given our loving but volatile relationship, is November 5 – Guy Fawkes Day?
Then there is my chronic inability to remember names. A promising suggestion from my friend Barry Humphries is to associate each person’s name with some other thing or object. Recently, on a board on which I serve in Sydney, I was introduced to a new member called Yiah. As her name sounded like ‘ear’, I decided to associate her name thus. Unfortunately the next time we met I asked “And what do you think about this matter, Chin?”
The best advice I’ve been given to cope with mental and physical deterioration, and with most other life problems as well, comes from my policeman friend from the Gold Coast, Detective-Sergeant David Isherwood, known as Ã¢â‚¬ËœDavoÃ¢â‚¬â„¢, who simply says, “Mate. What else can you do but cop it.” All of this is aided by reminding myself of an Old Russian proverb I made up: “All that trembles, does not fall.” This quote begins BUZY IN THE FOG: FURTHER ADVENTURES OF GRAFTON EVEREST, the third of my Grafton Everest novels – all of which bombed in Australia, but which sold brilliantly in South Africa and the United Kingdom in Corgi Bantam’s “Black Swan series. This fiction got its name after I asked a Jungian therapist who I was seeing in London: “How do you think IÃ¢â‚¬â„¢m doing? Dr Costello truthfully replied: “I think youÃ¢â‚¬â„¢re buzy in the fog, Ross.
Another Queensland friend maintains that the most brilliant idea that I have ever come up with in my entire life is that, shortly before I eat a meal at home, I turn my cardigan or jumper inside out. This means that whatever food drops down on me, including all the dribbles and stains, will not show up when I later put it back on the right way up. The only problem is that while this procedure works wonders at home, it is difficult to achieve when Lyndal and I are eating out!
One of the many reasons that Lyndal and I have been married for 35 years is that she’s a woman who isn’t the slightest bit interested in illness. I remember years ago saying, “I don’t feel very well. To which she replied, “Darling, the pyramids were built by people who didn’t feel very well.
These days, one of life’s pleasures is to agree to review whatever books I am sent, no matter what their scope or subject. To any reviewing request, my motto is ‘Never, never say No; Never refuse.” It is rather like my tendency , no matter how provoked – not to respond to criticism, a position to which I almost invariably adhere.
As Sigmund Freud rightly said, the secret to a good life is “love and work. Every day I try to contribute, to achieve and be productive. As my friend Ã¢â‚¬ËœAntique HarryÃ¢â‚¬â„¢ said: ” If you aim for the stars, you won’t shoot yourself in the foot!”
But, even for retirees, it is still easy to be misunderstood. My maverick friend Bob Katter, the Independent federal member for the vast north Queensland seat of Kennedy, which is actually bigger than Belgium, tells the story of his father Bob Katter Snr, who was actually a member of the Labor Party until the Great Split in 1957. He was driving a battered old Ute, windows down, through the boon-docks outside of Charters Towers. As he was hurling down an unmade road, an Aboriginal woman called out “PIG. To which Katter Snr put his head out the window and called out “Bitch. A second or two later ran slap bang into a wild boar!
Recently I was made a part-time Professorial Fellow at the Australian Catholic University. A journalist asked, “Are you a Catholic?
“Put it this way, I said. “And this is a true story. A friend of mine went hitchhiking in Ireland. The bloke who picked him up asked, “Are you a Catholic or a Protestant? When friend responded, “IÃ¢â‚¬â„¢m an atheist”, the driver said. “No. Are you a Catholic atheist or a Protestant atheist? The journalist looked like IÃ¢â‚¬â„¢d hit her with a wet fish! “Forget it, I said, “Let it go through to the keeper.
After we had lived in Brisbane for over a quarter of a century, four years ago Lyndal said, “Darling, I want you to know that I am going back to Sydney. I’d like you to come with me”, she said, “But I want you to know that I’m going.”
As I wanted (and still want) to stay with Lyndal, the decision was crystal clear. A fait accompli! So now we are living in the wilds of Redfern, in a terrace house called “Greystoke” which was the name of the ancestral home of Lord Greystoke – Tarzan of the Apes.
As it happens, I almost always walk with my dog Maddie, carrying what my teetotal, Collingwood football playing, father Bill (Ã¢â‚¬ËœLong TomÃ¢â‚¬â„¢) Fitzgerald used to call an umberella!
Dad also used to say, “IÃ¢â‚¬â„¢m looking forwards to seeing you, which to me makes perfect linguistic sense. By the way, Maddie, our feisty West Highland white terrier, is a groaker. For those who don’t know, to groak (GROAK) means to look at someone else’s food with imploring eyes.
One of the many positives of living in Redfern is that our sprawling suburb is close to the airport and only a 20-minute walk into the city. Despite Lyndal’s strong objection, I especially enjoy having my hair cut by Theo the Greek barber, who not only deals with hair on the head, but with recalcitrant hairs in the nose and ears as well.
Theo is famous/infamous for his VERY SHORT haircuts. What I really like is when Theo puts down his scissors and says, “Will that do? I pause for a moment and then say, quite deliberately, “I think we need off just a little bit more!” Lyndal maintains that no one else has ever said this to Theo. In any case, it certainly produces in my barber what one might best describe as a frisson.
Outside Theo’s barbershop, there is a large sign facing Bourke Street saying ‘Gents Hairdressing. Specialising in All Styles.Ã¢â‚¬â„¢
I like that. In some ways it describes the way I operate in my mid-sixties. Never limit any opportunities or possibilities. Be open and eager for experience. Avoid sloth and self-pity. And above all, be comforted by the fact that, no matter what happens, within a month or two my hair grows back to ‘normal.’
I think Lyndal’s revelations about coping with life in her 60s, after having been a well-known Australian model and actor, is one of the funniest contributions to the book.
I haven’t the time to detail Lyndal’s many suggestions for life-improvement, including the multifaceted possibilities potentially available should there ever be travelling Botox clinicians and salespersons knocking door to door.
But did you know the vast educational opportunities provided in the first decade of the 21st century by women’s panty liners?
Ã¢â‚¬ËœFor Everyday FreshnessÃ¢â‚¬â„¢, Lyndal uses Ã¢â‚¬ËœLibra Absorbent LinersÃ¢â‚¬â„¢. As she reveals, a bonus for the over 50s and over 60s with time on their hands, is that inside each Libra Liner is a short page of “interesting facts.
Recently Lyndal learnt that:
Ã¢â‚¬ËœMosquitoes have teeth and are attracted to people who have recently eaten bananasÃ¢â‚¬â„¢;
Ã¢â‚¬ËœAmerican Airlines saved $40,000 dollars in 1987 by eliminating one olive from each salad served in First ClassÃ¢â‚¬â„¢;
“Sigmund Freud had a morbid fear of ferns.Ã¢â‚¬â„¢
Ã¢â‚¬ËœCats can hear ultrasound.Ã¢â‚¬â„¢
Ã¢â‚¬ËœSugar was added to chewing gum in 1869 by a dentist, William Semple.Ã¢â‚¬â„¢
Ã¢â‚¬ËœWhen the Eiffel Tower was built in 1884, Parisians referred to it as “the tragic lamp postÃ¢â‚¬â„¢
So here’s a tip to take home this evening.
Modern-day panty liners, at least the absorbent Libra brand, are highly recommended reading for women, and for men, who have moved, or are moving, beyond the big Five O.
As you can see from the flyers on your seat, GROWING OLD (DIS) GRACEFULLY is available for sale from ABC Books and from your local book store.
But before I finish, apart from Barry Humphries and Jerry Lewis, my favourite twentieth century comedian was the American with the big cigar, George Burns, who recounted that on his 100th anniversary he got a standing ovation , just for standing!
Thank you very much for having me.