The big seven five.

When I turned 25, my brother James told me that I was over the hill.

After I turned 29, I spent my whole 30th year thinking about turning 30.  So, when asked how old I was, I’d say “30.”  Lost a year that way.

When I turned 50, I lost my job when a new governor abolished the department I was working in.  That sent me back to local government where the politicians could irritate, but we could still help real people with their real problems.

Today, the day after Christmas 2018, I turn 75.  My body is finding new ways to tell me how old I am.  On the other hand, now that I’m retired as a “labor lieutenant of capital,” in the words of the old-time socialists, I’m making trouble for the powers that be and helping the powerless.  That gives me the energy to stay young.  We shall overcome!

Today I also feel the loving joy of having fathered and fathering the four wonders of my life: Joe, Bibi, Roisin, and Anne Mei.


  1. Happy Birthday, Ken. Keep up the good work of creating trouble for the powerful on behalf of their victims, and keep up the good work of your writing! As Kathleen noted, the world needs more 75 year olds like yourself!

  2. Happy 75th dear brother. This time the rest of us don’t feel too far behind. You are a trail blazer in so many ways! Love always, Kate

  3. Dear Ken,
    Congratulations of turning 75. I hit that mark in August, and have found myself using it as an excuse. as in “I really want to stay in bed, and, why shouldn’t I? After all, I’m seventy-five.” I try not to fall back on thinking that way too much, but it’s sooooo handy. Happy Birthday!

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