By a number of measures, I should be dead.

I drove my 1967 Rambler American more than a dozen times while numbingly inebriated before I turned 19. The lights of Main Street were lit, and so was I.

Terrible choice, absolutely, but also – poor excuse aside – common in that era.

On more than one occasion I recall thinking to myself after arriving safely back home late at night…

… shit, I don’t remember that drive.

I wouldn’t describe it as a blackout but more a trance-like state, as if someone else had taken control of the steering wheel and magically transported me home while I hazily observed. Gage Park wobbled back and forth in my heavy eyes as I passed by…

I could have killed myself, or even more tragically, some innocent pedestrian or decent steelworker making his journey home to his family upon finishing an afternoon shift at Dofasco (my boyhood hometown Hamilton, Ontario is a well-known steel-making city).

At other times, I’ve foolishly wandered down dark alleys in seedy areas of cities (eg. Hamburg, Germany, or Granada, Nicaragua) where you could reasonably expect a grisly murder to occur… or gone home with total strangers that I know I shouldn’t have but was too polite to say “NO THANKS” (it’s that damned Canadian politeness factor)!

I’ve scuba-dived down deep… jumped from an airplane at 10,000 feet (yes, WITH a parachute attached, I’m not a TOTAL idiot!).

Minor and major life-threatening events occur to each of us throughout our days and come at us from different angles… some we anxiously avoid and some we dive into wholeheartedly.

BUT… still…

I fear death… do you?

I fear it more intensely now than when I was younger and even more witless.

Why? The fear isn’t so much about a lack of courage (although I would easily win the part of the Lion in The Wizard of Oz!) I’ve decided that it comes down to a big three for me… CURIOSITYFOMO (Fear of Missing Out) … and AMBITION.

I begrudge you death…

CURIOSITY?

Despite all the daily worries and problems out there in the big world, and certainly not for everyone, but… to me, the time in which we live is a Golden Age.

And the mountain of gold is growing bigger still.

In my murky crystal ball I foresee huge peaks of future excitement.

Technology has increasingly enlivened my days with each passing year, and the wonders of new ways of doing things, communicating, travelling, learning, and relating to the world around me.

I’m flabbergasted and invigorated with enthusiasm for what is still to come. It makes me giddy… and I don’t want to miss a thing even if I don’t understand it all. Humanity’s creativity has generated some crazy and amazing stuff.

Masters and those who display a high level of creative energy are simply people who manage to retain a sizable portion of their childhood spirit despite the pressures and demands of adulthood.”   Robert Greene, author

Which brings me to…

FOMO?

Add to this curiosity my relatively new (3 years) experiment as a grandfather, and again, I don’t want to miss out on seeing all the potential and wonder of who and what becomes of my young successors.

There’s a heightened level of pride that seems to skip a generation where it comes to grandchildren: perhaps there’s less intense pressure as a grandparent to micro-manage the little ones’ day-to-day direction that frees us to see the beauty and marvel of a developing new life.

What a loss it would, and will be, to miss these million milestones …

AMBITION?

This is tied part and parcel into this compulsion I have for goal-setting that I’ve mentioned here on numerous occasions.

Guitar skills, songwriting, new cooking artistry, language learning, running targets… goals towards anything that gets my heart racing for all the positive reasons related to the marvels of endorphins.

I’m a minstrel at heart who pines to become a better minstrel… and becoming better at anything – as Malcolm Gladwell will happily tell you- requires time and HOURS of practice.

I need time because… Death has a way of cutting short practice time…

How do you get to Carnegie Hall? Practice, practice, practice.”   E.E. Kenyon, 1953

The thing is, life is short and precarious. Much of our success in living another day is as much luck as anything else.

To attain old age is akin to the way the late Bob Ross painted his quiet little masterpieces, all… “happy little accidents“…

In a breath this grandminstrel (ie. me) will be dust in the wind, a universal nomad… no matter my curiosity, FOMO or ambition… it’s preordained…

The bottom line just has to be Carpe Diem... wash your hands, eat your vegetables, live your life in high-definition, bravely, fully and well…

Let me know if you have a fear of dying, and if so, why.

PS You can put your mind at ease… I haven’t driven under the influence in many…. decades!

PPS Just one more reason to live a long time… I want to wear these clothes that are smarter than me!