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Personal Essay
“Camelot” is Time-Limited — Enjoy Your Experiences Accordingly
“Let the good times roll,” sang The Grateful Dead, in 1989; the Cars in, 1978, B.B. King, in 1976; and my favorite, Ray Charles in 1960. It’s a captivating lyric because, instinctively, we understand that the good times won’t last forever.
I’m finding that “roll” is an appropriate verb, as in “roll on by.” When you get to a certain age, as I have, you become keenly and painfully aware that the good times don’t last. It’s a fact of life. Which is why we should feel obligated to enjoy the hell out of the good times while they’re here.
Our periods of “Camelot” will not last forever — they’ll rise and fall in a repeating pattern that becomes more painful as time goes on. Right now, I’m keenly aware of the good times drawing rapidly to a close, and there is not a thing I can do about it.
When I moved to Albuquerque, I immediately discovered that it’s pretty easy to have fun here. I met a friend, Kay, who is exactly my age and who loves dogs even more than I do. That first year, pre-pandemic, we spent lots of time hiking with our four combined canines. Wearing our “Make Good Trouble” facemasks, Kay and I made a habit of going out for margaritas. We nursed each other through the loss of our senior dogs, one each. Now, just four years later…
