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Seventy is the New My Back Hurts

There are a lot of things that are about to start changing and I don’t know if I am ready. 
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February 23, 2022

I was born on April 20, 1952. That means on my next birthday, I will turn 70 years old. If I weren’t Jewish, that would scare the bejesus out of me. Since I am Jewish, I guess it scares the bemoses out of me. I have friends who have already hit 70 and called me in a panic. I gave them my best sage wisdom. It’s only a number. You’re as young as you feel. Don’t let a number dictate your life. Your best years are still ahead of you.

What a crock. The sweat beads are pouring off me. I am now the one in a major panic. I’m almost at the point of needing to be sedated. As I write this, it’s 2 pm. I am under the covers and in bed. I didn’t climb into bed to write this. I was already in bed, getting ready for my afternoon nap. Naptime is very important to old people. I usually nap from around 1:45 p.m. until 7:00 p.m., but got started late because I could not find my hot water bottle and neck pillow. Without my nap, I am useless; with it, I’m half useless. 

Without my nap, I am useless; with it, I’m half useless.     

When someone asked me what it is I feared about 70, I said, “Dying, getting sick, breaking a hip, having a bad back, wrinkles, bad teeth, going blind, deaf, rotting toenails, becoming obsessed with hot soup, and of course, my sex life fading into the sunset.” How important sex was to me when I was in my 20’s. I remember thinking if I could not have it, I might die. Now I think if I have it, I might die. You can’t beat the system. 

There are a lot of things that are about to start changing and I don’t know if I am ready. 

My wife and I recently went to the Big Island of Hawaii for five days. It was our 32nd wedding anniversary trip. We upgraded the rental car to a convertible Ford Mustang. They are great cars, but the bucket seats are so very low to the ground. When I parked at the hotel and attempted to exit the car, that’s all she wrote. Boom! I wrenched my back. Out of nowhere, a sharp pain shot across where my butt crack is housed. The feeling was not dissimilar to when the dentist pokes an exposed nerve then hands you a bill for 900 dollars that insurance won’t cover. The result of this back-wrenching was that my wife had to drive the entire trip. The pain was so bad, I had to resort to stretching. 

Two things old people like to brag about is if they can drive at night and if they are limber. I remember taking a stretching class at LA Fitness. All the old men and ladies that can still palm the floor and do cartwheels are always in the front rows, deliberately limber-shaming all the Cheeto and Babka eaters in the back.  

In Judaism, there’s something special about the number 70. Curiously, we see this number come up in Scripture and Midrash. There are 70 nations and languages. Seventy members of Jacob’s family came to Egypt. There are 70 elders, 70 “faces” of the Torah, and 70 years of exile. In addition, there are no specific customs relating to the celebration of one’s birthday except one’s Bar/Bat Mitzvah. However, 70 years is very significant in Jewish writings. The Sages state that at 70, one reaches the age of “fullness [of years]” (Pirkei Avot 5:21). It is thus definitely appropriate to mark the occasion by expressing gratitude for having lived what the rabbis consider a full life.

So maybe I wasn’t wrong when I told my friend that 70 is only a number. You’re as young as you feel. Don’t let a number dictate your life. Your best years are still ahead of you. 

The way for me to look at 70 is I’m still very much alive. I’m still relatively healthy. I’m still creative. I have a terrific family and friends who love me. I have gratitude to God. My wife makes a great lentil soup and prune pudding. And, most important, I can still drive at night. Touching my toes? I’m still working on it.


Mark Schiff is a comedian, actor and writer.

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