RIVER CITY JOURNAL: RUTS AND ROCKS LINE TRAIL TO 80

Memories are such wonderful things, but oh so fragile.

Memory -- the ability to recall events, faces, names, places from out of the past -- is, on the other hand, durable enough to last a lifetime. The problem is that your memory is no longer a whole piece. It is but shards of reality.

There you are. A bit of philosophy to go along with your coffee. No extra charge.

This is what started this thought process: Several folks have commented on a couple of recent columns that mentioned one-room schools and the advent of rural electricity. It seems most of you shared the experiences of a basic education and living through the conversion to light bulbs from lamp wicks. For the most part, these are good memories.

But your memory is getting less and less reliable. Just this week you met a fellow you went to high school with. Honest to goodness you can't remember what he looked like when he was young. He didn't look familiar at all. On the other hand, he couldn't seem to remember you either. Fair is fair. He said he would consult the high school yearbook. You decided not to do that for a simple reason: Looking at all those young faces untested by the trials and rigors of life can give you the willies.

Not that growing old -- oops, age advantaged -- is all that bad. There are so many wonderful memories. But life is a trial at times, and the older you get the more difficult it is to cope sometimes.

Air-brained cashiers at drive-in restaurants didn't used to bother you. Now you snap at them when they pick their noses and then hand you your fast food.

Having something unexpected come up during the day used to provide a diversion from the routine. Now it makes you wish telephones -- and voice mail in particular -- had never been invented. What was that Bell fellow thinking of?

Not getting enough sleep used to mean you were frittering away your time -- and having a good time at that. Now it means you ache when you are in bed and have to get up frequently for reasons that need not be spelled out while you are munching your corn flakes.

Once upon a time a five-hour drive was something to look forward to. Now you spend longer than five hours trying to figure out reasons not to go.

This all sounds sort of grumpy, doesn't it? That is part of getting older. You can be grouchy and those around you attribute it to your advancing years. Deep down, they wish you would lighten up, unbutton your shirt collar, loosen your belt, take off your shoes and take stock. Rest a spell. Give the poor fast-food worker a break.

Recently your grumpy side has had the upper hand. Then you remembered that if you kicked off this mortal coil today, everyone would remember the last thing you said to them was gruff. Does all this sound like someone you know?

Your mother-in-law summed it up: Turning 80 isn't all it's cracked up to be.

You are still a ways from 80, but the trail ahead appears to have a few ruts and too many rocks.

This started on a philosophical note. You guess it might as well end on one: What makes looking ahead worthwhile are those pauses to look back.

If that sounds like a platitude to you, then you are younger than the rest of us. If it sounds like good advice, welcome to the club.