If you’re young, say south of 40, stop now; you’ll think these the irrelevant musings of an old man (middle aged nowadays, but whose counting). If you’re in your 40s you’re starting to relate to what I’ll have to say (whatever I end up saying), and if you’re in your 50s and beyond, fuggedaboutit. We’ll be winking at each other the whole time. I am almost always tripping out (yes, I’m a child of the 60s and 70s) on this vicious predator called time, and on a recent trip the image of the before personal computers video game Pac Man came to mind. I used to love that stupid little game. In one of my first jobs out of college in the early 80s every lunch I’d head up to the lunch room and battle that exhaustless Pac Man eater, not realizing it was such a good metaphor.
I’ve had many responses to my constant harping on the swift passage of time from my kids over the years (27 for the oldest who thinks she kinds of gets it now; she doesn’t), most of which come in the form of eye rolls. Sure, pops, I got it, time flies. You’re old. Of course they don’t because the message I want to convey is this: before you know it, you’ll be dead! Oh boy, how morose you are, father. What a buzz-kill. I have my whole life ahead of me, and all you can tell me is, I’ll be dead before I know it? Well, yeah. That’s exactly what I’m telling you.
Time bears down on us like a freight train. When we’re young it’s far away and we can barely hear or see it, but the closer to us the louder it gets and the faster moving it seems. Then when it’s upon us, the ground shakes as it flies by. If you’ve ever had the experience of being close to a train at speed, it’s an awesome and scary experience. Time racing by us elicits a similar feeling, respect for its power, and awe at the destruction it can bring. And oh how time destroys; the greatest civilizations brought to nothing, archaeological curiosities. The rich and powerful, all pomp and circumstance, boasts and pride, turned to dust.
I can’t help as I read history, and enjoy movies and TV shows, knowing that the people or characters are now long dead. Every person or character is rotting in the ground, food for worms, or already consumed, but they were at one time just like me, just like the person typing these letters on a computer. All these people, including me, including you, have this terrible disease in common for which there is no cure. As my wife and children can tell you, watching movies or TV with me can be annoying because these thoughts are never too far from my mind or mouth.
I call death The Great Question Mark. Why is it? What does it mean? Where did it come from? Why do so few people ask these questions! Death has been a topic of human stories since time immemorial because it is the universal fact of existence: nobody gets out of here alive. Yet so many people would rather ignore this massively large elephant in the room of their lives. Maybe, they think deep down, it won’t really happen to me, won’t mercilessly hunt me down like it has every other human being who has ever existed. The great 17th century French math genius Blaise Pascal said it so very well, and we can chalk up his observation to the more things change:
In spite of all these miseries man wants to be happy, and only to be happy, and cannot help wanting to be happy. But how can he go about this? It would be best if he could make himself immortal, but since he cannot do this, he has decided to stop thinking about it. Being unable to cure death, misery, and ignorance, men have decided that in order to be happy, they must repress thinking about such things.
In our age of mass distraction this is easier to do, but human nature has always fought against accepting this galling and uncomfortable reality. Pascal adds:
This is how the whole of life slips by. We seek repose by battling against certain obstacles, and once they are overcome we find rest unbearable because of the boredom it generates. We have to get away from it all, and so we then go around begging for new excitement. We can’t imagine a condition that is pleasant without fun and noise. We assume that every condition is agreeable to which we can enjoy some sort of distraction. But think what kind of happiness it is that consists merely in being diverted from thinking about ourselves!
I never let my kids forget that Pac Man is coming for them, and to live their lives accordingly unto him who gave his life that they may live, forever!
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