Reflections On Turning 55
Productivity Is A Scam, Unless You're Curing Cancer or Putting Out Fires, Then It's NOT
Today I turn 55 years old. Gen Xers will immediately turn their thoughts to Sammy Hagar’s I can’t drive 55. A jumpsuited, long-haired musical temper tantrum about speed limits. As I recall, Jimmy Carter installed the 55mph speed limit as a way to conserve fuel during the energy crisis. We had to drive slower to deal with the fact that we didn’t have enough gasoline in America. This song was the ‘80s equivalent of complaining about wearing a mask.
You can see Sammy in his yellow jumpsuit, jamming his finger in a cop’s face. This was the very moment when American counterculture took a petulant turn from punk rock rebellion to proto-MAGA impudence. Or maybe the two were always the same? Punk led to metal, Carter led to Reagan. Leather jackets and plaid pants led to spandex and mall hair. Bummer, dude. But I have a bigger question.
Where was Sammy in such a hurry to get to? I know that speed itself is a thrill, but beyond the pure pleasure of piloting a hunk of metal faster than everyone else, what’s the rush, dude? That’s what I’m thinking about as I contemplate life in 2024. I’m as far away from the year 2000 now as I was when that song came out. That does my head in.
But, yeah, what’s the rush? On the highway of life, what’s wrong with being that old guy in the slow lane cruising along and gazing at the view? I used to fly by guys like that, just like Sammy, and wonder how they could be so hopelessly out of it. But I was the one racing to get to where I am right now, and, looking back, I could have taken my foot off the gas a long time ago. Every time I did, I was glad for it.
So here’s some advice: Stop being productive. It’s dumb. Unless you’re a cancer researcher, or a firefighter, or a pediatrician, in which case, stop reading this and optimize your time better. Seriously, get back to work! But if you’re an ordinary cog in the machine, slow the heck down. Stop making the rest of us look bad. Take the day off. Stare out the window. Read a poem. It’s OK if that last slide of your PowerPoint deck gets done tomorrow.
Here’s what I like about being 55. I’m old enough to realize that some things I thought were important aren’t and other things I ignored are worth gazing at a while longer. What’s more, I can still move around well enough to enjoy those things. Sure, I keep a bottle of Tums on the bedstand and I have to learn how to walk again every morning, but I can still get places on foot and ride a bike.
55 is a sweet spot to be in. Today I’m going to stare at my wife and tell her how much I adore her until she waves me off. Then I’m going to call my son and tell him I love him. I’m going to read a poem. Meditate. Take a hot bath. Eat something sweet. I’m going to walk around in a crowd and feel the fact that everyone I see is alive just like me. I hope I run into one of you. If not, this is your cosmic hug. Today, you are my present. Satre was wrong, hell is not other people. Other people can be pretty damn great.
So, for my birthday, please, drive 55. Enjoy the view. Stop trying to squeeze more out of everything. Just be. With. Me.
Blowing out candles and wishing you peace and happiness,
I am,
Sean Sakamoto
Totally agree with you there, Sean!