I'm living in the lap of luxury...or laziness, it's hard to tell

We don't have a hammock, but the point is, if I wanted to sleep while Nick our lawn guy cuts the grass, I could.

When Terry and I bought our first home in 1992, I was by default in charge of lawn maintenance, snow removal and leaf clean-up. These traditionally masculine roles fit me well, and I took some pride in keeping a relatively well-maintained lawn and a clear winter driveway.

Fast forward to 2025, and my how things have changed.

I now have a guy (Nick) who mulches my flower beds in the early spring, cuts my grass all summer, and removes my leaves in the fall.

I have another guy (Jeff) who plows my driveway in the winter, leaving only some light shoveling to do around the entryways to our home.

It's not that I can't physically do these things anymore. I can. It's a combination of not wanting to do them and having the discretionary income to pay someone else to do them.

It helps a lot that Nick is very good at what he does, and that Jeff is thorough and reliable whenever winter storms smack us in the face. If they did their jobs poorly, I might rethink my decision to outsource all of this work.

As it is, though, I'm fortunate to have access to skilled, responsible help that makes my life a lot easier.

Not that I really need life to be that much easier. mind you. I'm ridiculously blessed, and I'm of a socioeconomic demographic that benefits inordinately from the system.

You don't have to be wealthy to have it as good as I do. Just lucky.

Still, I'm waiting for the day when my manly pride gets the better of me and I tell Nick, "You know what? I don't need you anymore. I'm going to go back to cutting the grass and raking up the leaves myself. Thanks for your service."

When that happens, I give it one, maybe two lawn mowings before I'm on the phone asking whether he can work me back into his schedule.

I hope I continue to realize how good I have it.

Music is my way of keeping my brain from turning to mush

If you read books and articles about longevity and the ways in which you're supposed to take care of yourself as you get older, you will inevitably come across the admonition to challenge your mind continually.

Whether it's learning a new language, taking a class, or just doing difficult crossword puzzles every day, the idea is that your brain is like a muscle. And as with any muscle, it must be constantly worked or else it will eventually lose functionality.

I would argue my brain has already atrophied somewhat, but my weapon of choice in the fight against cognitive decline is the tenor saxophone.

As I've mentioned before, I take weekly private lessons from a marvelous sax player and teacher named Ed Michaels. Ed is a talented musician and educator, and just an all-around good guy. I get excited for Mondays at 5:30pm, which is when I get the Google Duo notification indicating that Ed is calling and it's time for our virtual lesson.

These lessons, and my subsequent practice sessions throughout the week, are not easy. Nor would I want them to be.

Ed throws a lot at me, but he does it with a smile and always with the encouragement that he's doing it because I'm "an A-plus student." Whether he's just saying that to make me feel good or he really means it, it doesn't matter. It always inspires me to work harder.

And hard work it is, as I've never formally learned, for example, chord structures. Seventh chords are the foundation of jazz improvisation, so I spend a lot of time playing outlines and scales around major seventh, dominant seventh, minor seventh, half-diminished, and diminished 7th chords.

These are, as Ed calls them, "The Big Five." And the sound, feel, and sax fingerings for them do not come naturally to me. Thus, I have to drill myself continually.

I'm getting there. I'm no Charlie Parker, nor will I ever be, but slowly, I'm getting closer to playing like Bird than I ever have.

It's not only fun, it's also making my mind work hard, which is largely why I do it.

Forty years from now, when I'm a drooling mess and about to keel over, my goal is be able to play the best solo on "Autumn Leaves" you'll ever want to hear.

I almost can't wait.