Let me start by saying I’m 75.  Yeah, I know that sounds like a quibble, but owning up to it makes the limits on my thoughts painfully clear.

No, I don’t mean medical issues. I’m talking about social ones. YouTube drives me up the wall. It makes sense: I grew up when books were the only way to learn. Now I endlessly hunt for written articles, desperate for something I can actually absorb without having to tune out pointless music.

While I love to read, most current fiction leaves me wondering how the publishers expect anyone to read this drivel. The answer stings, I have to accept that my age has shoved me out of the mainstream—or, more accurately, the mainstream sprinted right past me.

I could write volumes about how drastically technology has exploded since I earned my degree. I fight to keep pace, but a sixteen-year-old can spin my website into a flashy, SEO-packed marvel on their phone alone. Me? I’m not even on Facebook.

I’m not whining—these limits stem from the world I grew up in. But it gnaws at me: Seriously, why on earth would you let someone so blissfully out of touch legislate your future? Relax, I’m not eyeing a seat in Congress—though fun fact: nearly one in five members of Congress is seventy or older. Shocking, right?

Think about that: my opinions were forged when rotary phones were cutting-edge. Do you really want me writing laws you’ll live under long after I’m worm food?

And the Supreme Court—lifetime appointments, immune to sweeping societal shifts, yet we expect them to render fair judgments for generations to come. It’s absurd!

We demand a president be at least thirty-five because youth implies inexperience. Fair enough. But why do we assume someone over seventy is still fit to lead? Experience is priceless, but when your own timeline is winding down, your perspectives and priorities skew—and much of what you’ve learned is no longer relevant.

I waited until seventy-four to retire, but I’m convinced our leaders need age caps not because they’re senile (though some certainly are), but because their view of the future is inherently limited.

I’m not calling for firing seasoned professionals. In many fields, age is gold. But politics is different. Political life has morphed since I was twenty, yet many elected officials cling to outdated playbooks.

Back then, politics had a cooperative spirit; now, blind party loyalty trumps everything. It breaks my heart how far we’ve fallen.

As politicians age, they master the art of pandering for votes. But slick speeches don’t guarantee sound policy, they won’t fix potholes or student debt. Just look around, our lawmakers couldn’t navigate today’s problems if we handed them a GPS.

Yes, imposing age limits risks sidelining extraordinary individuals, and that’s a shame. Age doesn’t mean you lose cognitive ability. At 95, my mother had no problem recognizing the GOP delayed the Medicare cuts until after midterms in hopes of getting re-elected before the ax dropped. But age does change your priorities. The exceptional folk could still mentor young leaders, driving change without pulling the levers of power past their prime. Meanwhile, policies get charted by folks planning for the next half-century, not the next half-hour.

The same goes for life-tenured judges. Left unchecked, they’ll cling to the “good old days” they remember, dragging us backward. Spoiler: that era never really existed. We were taught the Supreme Court shields the Constitution—yet today’s court is bending the law to suit bygone ideals.

So pick any number. I’d cap elected office at seventy, bar candidacy after sixty-six, and retire judges at seventy. This is also where the DOT has decided to mandate extra testing for all us seniors. Oh, and since the Court ignores the Constitution in favor of their own political party, rotate half the Court every four years, alternating party appointments. We can sort out the ninth seat, later.

Here’s the punchline: almost nobody pays attention to my rants. But I don’t care about the applause—I just want these ideas to ruffle feathers and spark a real conversation. Because frankly, our future deserves more than yesterday’s relics calling the shots.

 

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This is where I have a little fun and insert some music created on Songer. It’s fast, easy and often exceeds my expectations.

As is my practice I created several candidates. Echoes of Change was the consensus favorite.

Echoes of Change

 

Don’t get me wrong, Echoes of Change covers all my highlights and the lyrics are very clear but It’s my blog so I decided to ignore consensus and include my personal favorite. Shadows of the Congress is much darker and fits my current mood much better.

Shadows of the Congress

 

 

 

 

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