How Old Are You in Your Head?
What's your story? I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours
Take the mic and tell us how old you feel in your head. Let’s play with the strangest aspect of old age — Even though our bodies are old, our minds are still teenagers.
The teenager in me never runs out of gas, never gets bored, always knows what’s up. He never gets old, never retires, and never dies. He just keeps dancing.
I’m a Russian doll — an old Mick Jagger, with a young Mick Jagger inside.
Hidden inside this strange quirk of aging is the greatest secret of life that almost no one knows. My true self — the young Mick Jagger — never dies. He’s always full of youthful energy, and even when I can hardly move my limbs, young Mick keeps on rockin’.
I can’t do gymnastics or run a marathon, but I can write. I don’t use AI. Young Mick does the writing, while old Mick provides the hard-won wisdom that powers the ideas we put on our pages. It’s a great “collab,” as the young people say.
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Please Join In
I don’t know how this experiment will work, but let’s give it a go. Tell us how old you are in your head, and read the other comments and reply. Join the community. And I’ll read every comment and reply to them all with my heartfelt encouragement.
All my articles and the comments are still open to everyone, so please join in. Let’s support one another.
Forever Thirteen
I don’t feel 80 inside — I’m forever thirteen.
The thirteen-year-old inside me is empty. He has no preconceived ideas or canned concepts. His creativity, his ability to learn and change, is boundless. The lights are on and he’s open for business 24/7.
Here’s why I’m thirteen in my head.
I was thirteen in 1957 — one of the most exciting times, culturally, in US history. One night I fell asleep to Perry Como and Patti Paige, and woke up the next morning to Fats Domino, Buddy Holly, Elvis Presley, Little Richard, and Brenda Lee.
Music defined me.
1957 was an explosion of the new, exciting, and outrageous. I remember the day of Elvis Presley’s performance on the Ed Sullivan Show. It was all my friends and I talked about that day in school.
One day I was sitting in the kitchen with my friend, Billy, at his grandparent’s house, and “That’ll Be The Day” by Buddy Holly & the Crickets came on. The song shot from the radio like a rocket. I can’t unhear that moment, and I’m so glad.
I didn’t know it at the time, but 1957 was when I learned I didn’t have to do what my teachers and my parents said I should do. I had my own ideas and my own culture to guide me.
There were teenagers, not much older than me, out in the world, shaking things up and making their own music. I didn’t have to become a claims adjuster at an insurance company. All I needed was a guitar and imagination.
1957 is when I learned that people like Buddy Holly just made up brand-new songs in their head and lit the world on fire with them. That was actually possible! My parents didn’t like it so much, but I was all-in on the music and culture of the late 50s.
I discovered Catcher In The Rye on a paperback rack at the local shopping center, and that book became my bible in 1957. I loved that book like a best friend. It changed my life. It was an angry, sarcastic view of life as a 16-year-old that fit me like a new white t-shirt.
I discovered jazz in 1957, when I heard Ramsey Lewis’ album, Down To Earth. I had to reconcile jazz with rock and roll, and I did.
My 1957 was transcendent. I wasn’t thinking and planning, I was living the dream and didn’t know it. I was in the moment. I was teenaging. I wasn’t asking permission. There was a whole lotta shakin’ goin’ on in my life.
That’s why I’ll always be thirteen in my head.
My Endless Summer
Sometimes when I’m working on an article, a perfect idea for it will randomly appear. This morning, I read an article by
about the concept of 80 summers.When you’re young, it’s a good idea to remember you only have 80 summers left. Put’s life in perspective, kicks you in the ass and reminds you not to put things off.
I’m in my 80th summer, so that article grabbed me by the shirt collar and shook me. Have I used my allotted summers? Yes, but 80 summers is only a concept. I have my own allotment because I’m a club member. I get 20% more summers for my money. That gets me to 96 summers. Whew!
Tim quoted someone called SayLayPsyYa on X.
The biggest lie is believing that ‘you’ have 80 summers. There are 80 versions of you that get to experience 80 summers. Life looks a lot different when you stop believing you are a single person. ‘You’ stop putting stuff off because there is no later for ‘you’.
I’m not the same person I was last summer. I’m a different person every year. If every year I’m a different person, then I only have one summer as my current self.
Actually, I have only one moment. I can’t begin to live life fully yesterday or tomorrow because Right Now is the only time I can begin anything. I don’t have to follow anyone’s instructions but my own. All I need is a laptop and imagination.
That’s why I remember thirteen so clearly. It was an endless summer. Like a surfer in the barrel of a big wave, I wasn’t thinking — I was in the eternal moment, just having fun, fun, fun.
How Old Are You in Your Head?
Let us know in the comments. I’ll see you there.
Gary
July 2025
I’m 69, but in my head? I’m somewhere between 33 and timeless.
That’s the age where magnetism meets wisdom. Where I flirt like a woman who knows exactly who she is—but still gets giddy when he texts back. I’ve lived enough to choose peace over performance, but I still let wonder lead. I don’t over-explain anymore, but I’m wide open to discovery.
I guess you could say I’m in my prime frequency. Not an age—an energy. And it finally feels like mine.
Oddly, I couldn’t settle on the age in my head. It seems to change with the day. Sometimes, I feel young and in my 20’s which was an exciting era where I experienced a finding of confidence in my own self, loved rock with a passion and still do. In that time, I travelled, attended concerts, enjoyed friends, worked, dated a lot. But then came the 30’s and I feel that age in my head too. I married, became a mom. The 50’s, 60’s, and now 70’s forced me to be a full blown grownup with overwhelming, and often unwanted, responsibility. These three decades have made me feel older than my actual age. I think in my head I might feel in my 30’s most, but it does flex so much. I wonder why that is?