Patient's Progress: Age 79, Yes!: Years of Age, Silence, Denial, and Falsehoods Come to An End in -- Celebration!

Yup, that's daughter Misha's amazing birthday cake with me coming clean on my real age after decades of dead silence and what I call truthful lies such as:

"Can't believe I have turned 30" when I was in my 50's.

"Wow, in my 50's, can't believe it" when I was in my 70's -- right up to NOW.

"My two sons, Jon and Greg have turned 30, unbelievable"-- though many years ago.

OK, except for the ages of Jon and Greg, which is their business, here's the truth about my age. On May 2, I turned 79. And... and ... and I am celebrating it! I am routinely older than half the people in the obits. All those human beings are gone while I am still kicking and brag in this blog that I'm going to make it to 120.

Wait a sec. A thought just hit me. After decades of bragging about reaching 120, what if I actually got there? I'd be the oldest person on earth! Finally, after decades of being nobody, I would be famous! The name George Francis Pollock the Third would be known and admired throughout the world!

Whoops. Sorry. I'll come back to earth.

The truth is my life actually is unusual for a 79 year old. I play tennis 3 or 4 days a week and run around the court like a crazy man (which I am, of course). Before playing at the Worcester Greendale Y, I do strength exercises for at least 20 minutes.

I tell my tennis guys that the way I want to go is on the tennis court after hitting a winner. I ask that they just drag the body off the court and keep playing. They have no problem with that.

Hmm. Are they telling me something? Oh well, on to more of moi.

Most afternoons, even after morning competitive tennis, I get in my car and drive off looking for an interesting neighborhood to hike around. And I mean hike not stroll. I lift my chin, pull in my stomach, and straighten my back. I march like a presidential guard for at least an hour and often for an hour and a half.

Every home has people with a story. Snooping round, I wonder what those stories are. Sometimes I notice people in windows staring at a stranger walking around their neighborhood. So far one has called the police on me.

I don't drink. I don't smoke. I don't overeat (OK, once in a while I do). No bad habits (OK, in my opinion; can't wait for the emails listing my bad habits.)

Today Barbara and I are in Edmonds, Washington, visiting daughter Misha, son-in-law Ed, and four grandkids, Mia, Bella, Max, and Talula (from oldest, 15, to youngest, 5).

I and the three youngest just got back from checking out a monster's house. When I smelled something foul in the air, I yelled "Poison! It's trying to poison us!!"And the four of us ran off with me screaming, "Run, run, RUN!"

Before leaving for Edmonds, Barbara, niece Linda, and I celebrated my birthday with a great meal at the Sole Proprietor in Worcester, Mass. -- with wonderful surprises. Then we arrived on May 3 at Misha's and Ed's house in Edmonds, Washington to an even greater surprise -- an amazing birthday celebrating my long, long, long life!

Following are photos from those celebrations, starting with this one with Barb, niece Linda, and me at The Sole Proprietor. Linda was a total surprise. It was great to see you, Linda! She is below with Barbara and the birthday boy, moi!

We had a great meal. When we got to the birthday cake and Barb and Linda singing happy birthday, we all got a big surprise: a bunch of old guys behind us joined in. I could not have had a greater, more rousing happy birthday song!

When the song ended, I got up and and went over to the guys. I asked, "What are you old guys doing here singing happy birthday to me? You don't even know me. Are you old guys all nuts?"

Their quizzical looks told me they were thinking the same thing about me. But they didn't tell me to get lost. So I went around and asked each one his age. They were all retired, in their 70's, and had been meeting regularly for over 30 years.

"Man, you guys are old," I said. In the old days, I would have told them that I was in my 50's. Instead, I snarled, "Hah, I'm older than all of you."

"How old are you," one of them asked.

I puffed up, lifted my chin, and went super superior. "I'm 79. You are all a bunch of kids."

We all had a good laugh.

In case you think I'm making this up, here is a photo of those "kids."

Conversation opened. 1 read message.

Now, for photos of my birthday party at daughter Misha and
Ed's place in Edmonds,Washington. Misha is a talented interior
designer, party planner, and jack of all-trades artist. She plan-
ned and prepared it all.

How was it? To die for!

And all for me, an old man who spent almost his entire child-
hood in ever changing foster homes. As just a source of income
as a foster kid, I never had a birthday party. In fact, in celebrat-
ing my 79th, that's exactly what kept popping up in my head.

But when the grandkids gave me birthday cards created on
on their own, it told me that those hard, familyless days are
long gone. I had family. I had love.

I was one happy old man of 79!

Let's end now with photos of Misha and Ed's fabulous 79th
birthday party for me. Notice how after lying about my age for
decades, I now can't stop saying 79?

Now photos of the best birthday party any old man could hope
for.