The Decade of Doom?

Sep 02, 2022

My wife Toney and I have been together for about 30 years now and I recall a conversation she and I had during the earliest days of our relationship. It was a little morbid, I realize, but stayed with me. She told me about the many people from her life – relatives and friends of the family – who died after their 50th birthday, but before their 60th. “If you make it to 60,” she said, “you’ll probably live a long time. It’s the 50s you have to watch out for!”

I realize it was a jokey statement, not to mention anecdotal. But I never forgot it. In fact, I sort of believed it. I’m not sure why, but I did. We were both in our late 20s when the conversation took place, but on that day I started believing that our 50s would be fraught with danger.

As the years rolled by, I collected evidence to support the hypothesis. Every time someone kicked off between 50 and 60 it made for a stronger case. And I noticed, or seemed to, that few people died in their 60s. It was all adding up! And whenever something happened that went against the narrative, I simply dismissed it as an aberration. There were shitloads of aberrations, none of which meant a thing.

Indeed, when I reached my 50th birthday I began living under a dark cloud, of sorts. I’d entered dangerous territory. It’s where a lot of people are taken down, I knew. Better keep your head on a swivel, ready for all-over cancer and daisy-chain heart attacks and fiery car crashes and crazy-ass Final Destination shit. Oh, I wasn’t a complete lunatic about it. But it was always lurking deep inside my mind. MUST GET OUT OF MY 50s!

Well, I have about three months left to go. Ample time for a decapitation or some other horrific event, of course, but it feels like I might make it. However, Toney’s a couple of years younger than I am, so, there’s still plenty o’ worrying time remaining. It’s almost like a curse, that casual seemingly unimportant conversation we had a million years ago. I’ve asked her about it a couple of times, hoping she might not remember it and denounce the whole premise. But she remembers it clearly and still suspects it might be true, which doesn’t help at all.

Here's the thing though. If both of us successfully make it over the 60-year finish line, I won’t be relieved. You would think I’d feel a great weight lifted from my shoulders once we exit the Decade of Doom. But that’s not how my brain works. I’ll just twist it into a new neurosis and never miss a beat. I can already feel it happening.

How could I believe such a thing, I’ll wonder? Sure, in Toney’s case she personally witnessed several people close to her pass away during a specific (and early) decade of their life. So, it’s understandable that she might start connecting the dots in a certain way. But it didn’t happen to me, there’s no emotional component to it in my case; I should have a clearer view of the situation. Plus, it’s, like, five people in the history of humanity. Fairly flimsy evidence, right?

But I’m the one who’s been thinking about it and bringing it up through the years. I’ve never once heard Toney mention it on her own. I’m not even sure she believes it, not really. It’s almost like a flimsy joke that I’ve allowed to take up residence in my brain for three decades.

So, am I an idiot then?? That’ll be the next worry. I always considered myself to be at least reasonably intelligent, but everybody thinks they’re smart (or at least underestimated). Especially the idiots. Have you ever met anyone who said, “I am a very stupid man?” I haven’t. Will I be an easy mark in my older years, susceptible to phone scams and pay-in-advance roofers with exotic accents? Will I make terrible financial decisions that will lead to me eating nothing but Sketty-Os from a can deep into my 80s? Will I buy into conspiracy theories and start using phrases like “false flag” and buying crankable radios? Will I become a Scientologist or a fan of The Masked Singer? Oh God, will somebody please hold me?

Also, the head on a swivel concerns will continue. Even after both of us graduate from the Decade of Doom, I’ll just roll my eyes at those ridiculous beliefs and keep on expecting tragedy to strike at any minute. Every year, I’ll tell myself, it becomes more and more likely.

I’m going to be a lot of fun at the Cornhole tournaments in our retirement community, aren’t I?

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