By Dr. Arlene Spark, Special Features Editor, The Trumpet.
"Will you still need me, will you still feed me when I'm sixty-four?"
Paul McCartney wrote that a half-century ago when he was just 16, but we didn’t hear it until 1967. Although written as a love-song, most of us 20-somethings thought it was a song about aging and the fear of abandonment in later life.
The prospects of growing old seemed pretty remote to us back then.
I turn 64 on April 1st (don’t even think about commenting about the date!) – one more year and I’m eligible for Medicare. I already ride the bus from New Jersey to NYC for half-fare, get $2 off tickets to our local community theatre, and consider the early bird special at the diner a terrific night out.
A lot has changed since 1967 when the song was released on the Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album. They say, for instance, that “sixty is the new forty.” But in my heart of hearts I know that’s not quite true, at least not when I get the latest reports on chemotherapy from friends of mine, many not yet even my age.
Still, there is balance between light and dark in our lives and in the passing years. Neither "well-derly" nor "ill-derly" fully describe how things are for us. Maybe we need new songs about the undiscovered country of later life, songs that evoke both light and dark, songs that my adolescent acoustic guitarist grandson is not yet savvy enough to compose. But maybe Paul McCartney will.
In the meantime, here are the entire lyrics to "When I’m 64." The song's really about young love. For the high school seniors we used to be. But it still resonates for seniors like me.
When I get older losing my hair,
Many years from now.
Will you still be sending me a Valentine
Birthday greetings bottle of wine.
If I'd been out till quarter to three
Would you lock the door,
Will you still need me, will you still feed me,
When I'm sixty-four
You'll be older too,
And if you say the word,
I could stay with you.
I could be handy, mending a fuse
When your lights have gone.
You can knit a sweater by the fireside
Sunday morning go for a ride,
Doing the garden, digging the weeds,
Who could ask for more.
Will you still need me, will you still feed me,
When I'm sixty-four
Every summer we can rent a cottage,
In the Isle of Wight, if it's not too dear
We shall scrimp and save
Grandchildren on your knee
Vera Chuck & Dave
Send me a postcard, drop me a line
Stating point of view
Indicate precisely what you mean to say
Yours sincerely, wasting away
Give me your answer, fill in a form
Mine for evermore
Will you still need me, will you still feed me.
When I'm sixty-four