The meaning of it all

I started my car this morning and from the radio came the distinctive opening guitar riff of “Old Man” by Neil Young.

It’s a favorite of mine, a reminder that youth is fleeting and that happiness doesn’t depend on fame and success, but instead is rooted in love and connection.

It was written by Young at the zenith of his fame, and the version I heard this morning was an early recording, with Young’s voice as clear as a ringing bell on the high notes. It made me sad and happy and introspective all at once in the way that great music does.

Young says the inspiration for the song was the caretaker of his California ranch, a simple, unassuming man who loved the land and his family and was content with his modest place in the universe.

Funny how your perspective changes. When I first heard the song in the 1970s, I identified with Young, “Old man, look at my life, 24 and there’s so much more.” This morning, I found myself contemplating things from the old man’s point of view.

Once upon a time, I thought “Old Man” was a love song, assuming Young viewed the old man as a cautionary tale, a warning about the consequences of not embracing life and love.

Old man take a look at my life
I'm a lot like you
I need someone to love me
the whole day through
Ah, one look in my eyes
and you can tell that's true.

And perhaps it is. But like most great songs, “Old Man” has layered meanings that reveal themselves only as we grow in experience, buffeted by age and regret and bolstered by knowledge and insight.

Now I understand what drew Young to the gray-haired handyman who tended things on the property purchased by the famous young rock balladeer’s music royalties and tour wages.

He didn’t feel sorry for his old friend. Quite the opposite, in fact. With the insight of an artist, he sang about a connection across generations, an appreciation that money, sex and rock ’n’ roll can’t make you happy, can’t fill the void inside you, can’t bring you peace in the wee hours of the morning as dawn and another damned day beckons.

I've been first and last
Look at how the time goes past.
But I'm all alone at last.
Rolling home to you.

Young looked at the old man and understood – even at his young age – the things that can offer us grace and a restful soul – an appreciation for the small things in life, an acknowledgement that we need other people to make our life complete. When he peered into the eyes of his caretaker, he saw peace and happiness. When he sings, “Old man look at my life. I’m a lot like you were,” it’s with a yearning – an earnest hope – that he can find that same peace and contentment.

As I drove to work this morning, I envisioned Young sitting on the porch of his California ranch house all those years ago, thinking deep thoughts for such a young man. And I envied his wisdom. It took me decades to get to the same place.

Next week, I go under the knife to remove a cancerous prostate. Perhaps it’s only natural, under such circumstances, to ponder the mysteries of life and muse about the real meaning of it all.