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Tomorrow is not promised.

You look very young. You and I are nearly the same age, but I have been playing much, much longer than you. Too bad I don’t have more to show for it.
That’s not something over which to concern yourself. I’ve gigged with Chuck Berry. Sounds impressive? It’s not; literally thousands of other drummers have done so. Gigged with some other folks too. I get a small royalty check every February for an obscure Xmas record on which I played guitar, that gets played in retail stores during holidays. This year, I have no idea what to expect.

The bottom line is “something to show” doesn’t matter. What really matters is that I got to have some wonderful experiences, and got to make a living as a musician for more than a decade. Who cares what’s to ‘show’?? Just do your music, be present in the experience, and enjoy! Because indeed, tomorrow is not promised.
 
Bass playing, like everything in life, is what you make it.

I started on upright when I was 12. Fancied myself a pretty accomplished player by the time I was in my early adult years. Classical, Soul, R&B, Bebop, Blues, ProgRock - nothing in music was beyond my ability to play it.

Along came 2014 and a stroke at age 59. Spent a few frightening hours completely paralyzed on the left side of my body and unable to speak intelligibly. But luckily some blood clot buster medication administered in the ER got most of it back for me. It left me with chronic headaches, occasional bouts of vertigo, messed up sleep cycles, bursts of severe depression, and a left hand (my fretting hand) with some residual stiffness that no amount of warming up could eliminate. There were also maddeningly random short but still noticeable losses of coordination between my left and right hands.

I was one of the lucky ones.

When I finally got back home the first thing I did was pick up a bass. I wanted to know if I could still play. And much to my relief I found I could. Not as well as I once did. Not by a long shot. But I could still sit in the pocket and get it done.

Going on six plus years of steady practice I’ve gotten better at it. I figure I’m now up to about 60% of where I was before. I had higher expectations originally. But I’ve gradually come to realize my days of lightning fast prog runs all over the neck are almost definitely a part of my past. But I still keep plugging away at it with high hopes. Music is who I am and what I do. And who knows? Maybe I will get it all back someday. Only way to find out is to keep working at it.

Bottom line is I’m still alive - and I can still play. And that’s plenty enough for me. Like Stevie Wonder so aptly said one year at the Grammy Awards: “I’d like to thank my Supreme Being. Because it really didn’t have to be this way.”

You betcha Stevie! You betcha. :)
 
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Tomorrow is not promised and I commit to live my life as if today is my last. That said, I endeavor to make the most of each day I’m given and be a bright spot of the day for each person whose path I cross.
FWIW, I have the lyrics of Nickelback’s song, If Today Was Your Last Day, posted on my office wall.

You know what? I would not call those people. And some of them are very dear friends. But our relationships are complete each and every time we part ways, so it would not be necessary for me to spend that last day desperately reaching out for one last goodbye.

if today was my last day and I were healthy, I’d opt to spend that day doing whatever makes me happy in that timeframe. Might be with one person or some people, might be simply with my cats in my lap, whatever. If it were my last day and I were on my sick death bed, I’d probably want no one around. I never got the whole “he died surrounded by loved ones” thing. When you die, you end up lying in a puddle of your own assorted excrements; who wants others around for that? lol
 
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From time to time, I have questioned why I am making a serious effort to study Bass as an older person. Today, however, a thought came to my mind: Jimmy Blanton; Scott Lafaro; Jaco Pastorius; Oscar Pettiford; Doug Rauch; did not know their lives would be short. They just got the most out of the time they had. That should be my approach, whether I have ten days or twenty-five years left to play.

I don't know if this link will work, but I recently read this summary of an article:
Link Removed

When it comes to prospective age, a person should be considered "old" when their life expectancy is 15 years or less, Scherbov argues.

That "is when most people will start to exhibit the signs of aging, which is to say when quality of life takes a turn for the worse," Petrow writes.

"Some people may be old at 56, 60, or age 75," Scherbov said—with the exact pivot point into old age depending on their personal life expectancy, which varies between individuals and across countries.

As an example, Scherbov said, imagine a typical 60-year-old woman living in Japan, where women have the highest life expectancy in the world, at age 88. That woman shouldn't be considered old until she's 73, Scherbov said.

You are older than I am, but with my cancer history, I consider my life expectancy to be 15 years, actuarially speaking. I've been looking at that expected dying age for 11 years already. It might be wrong, but it influences how I think about planning and living. It constantly weighs on my balance of spending and saving, my imbalance of work and play.

This has been an inspiring thread from so many people, and your passion always inspires me, @Dr. Cheese. I think you're a wonderful ambassador for the instrument and for music. You make the most because you are impacting your church and students. I aspire to be even a much lesser version of that.
 
I don't know if this link will work, but I recently read this summary of an article:
Link Removed



You are older than I am, but with my cancer history, I consider my life expectancy to be 15 years, actuarially speaking. I've been looking at that expected dying age for 11 years already. It might be wrong, but it influences how I think about planning and living. It constantly weighs on my balance of spending and saving, my imbalance of work and play.

This has been an inspiring thread from so many people, and your passion always inspires me, @Dr. Cheese. I think you're a wonderful ambassador for the instrument and for music. You make the most because you are impacting your church and students. I aspire to be even a much lesser version of that.
Thank you, knowing that you feel my impact has been positive is humbling.
 
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Bass playing, like everything in life, is what you make it.

I started on upright when I was 12. Fancied myself a pretty accomplished player by the time I was in my early adult years. Classical, Soul, R&B, Bebop, Blues, ProgRock - nothing in music was beyond my ability to play it.

Along came 2014 and a stroke at age 59. Spent a few frightening hours completely paralyzed on the left side of my body and unable to speak intelligibly. But luckily some blood clot buster medication administered in the ER got most of it back for me. It left me with chronic headaches, occasional bouts of vertigo, messed up sleep cycles, bursts of severe depression, and a left hand (my fretting hand) with some residual stiffness that no amount of warming up could eliminate. There were also maddeningly random short but still noticeable losses of coordination between my left and right hands.

I was one of the lucky ones.

When I finally got back home the first thing I did was pick up a bass. I wanted to know if I could still play. And much to my relief I found I could. Not as well as I once did. Not by a long shot. But I could still sit in the pocket and get it done.

Going on six plus years of steady practice I’ve gotten better at it. I figure I’m now up to about 60% of where I was before. I had higher expectations originally. But I’ve gradually come to realize my days of lightning fast prog runs all over the neck are almost definitely a part of my past. But I still keep plugging away at it with high hopes. Music is who I am and what I do. And who knows? Maybe I will get it all back someday. Only way to find out is to keep working at it.

Bottom line is I’m still alive - and I can still play. And that’s plenty enough for me. Like Stevie Wonder so aptly said one year at the Grammy Awards: “I’d like to thank my Supreme Being. Because it really didn’t have to be this way.”

You betcha Stevie! You betcha. :)
I am glad you are still here and playing.
 
You know what? I would not call those people. And some of them are very dear friends. But our relationships are complete each and every time we part ways, so it would not be necessary for me to spend that last day desperately reaching out for one last goodbye.

if today was my last day and I were healthy, I’d opt to spend that day doing whatever makes me happy in that timeframe. Might be with one person or some people, might be simply with my cats in my lap, whatever. If it were my last day and I were on my sick death bed, I’d probably want no one around. I never got the whole “he died surrounded by loved ones” thing. When you die, you end up lying in a puddle of your own assorted excrements; who wants others around for that? lol
Fundamentally, we are born alone because it is our individual life beginning, and we die alone too.
 
From time to time, I have questioned why I am making a serious effort to study Bass as an older person. Today, however, a thought came to my mind: Jimmy Blanton; Scott Lafaro; Jaco Pastorius; Oscar Pettiford; Doug Rauch; did not know their lives would be short. They just got the most out of the time they had. That should be my approach, whether I have ten days or twenty-five years left to play.
If you want to do it, do it. If it makes you happy, do it. Don't let it get in the way of anything it shouldn't. My music helps build and keep friendships that mean a lot to me.
 
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From time to time, I have questioned why I am making a serious effort to study Bass as an older person. Today, however, a thought came to my mind: Jimmy Blanton; Scott Lafaro; Jaco Pastorius; Oscar Pettiford; Doug Rauch; did not know their lives would be short. They just got the most out of the time they had. That should be my approach, whether I have ten days or twenty-five years left to play.

This resonates with me. I'm 59. My father died, suddenly and unexpectedly of natural causes, at 59. So every morning when I wake up I consider it a gift, but not a guarantee. A couple of years ago my wife suggested we think about what hobbies/activities we want to do when we retire in a few years, since retired people seem to do better if they have a sense of purpose and accomplishment and something to look forward to. After thinking about it I concluded I still want it to be making music (for which bass is my primary instrument). I've been doing it on and off since I was 14 and it still brings me happiness. I'll never be a great bassist, but I enjoy it and it gives me something to work at and a medium for working together with others. I think of Florence Foster Jenkins, an older woman who loved opera and loved singing opera despite not having a very good voice. She worked hard at it, hired tutors, etc. She famously said, "People may say I couldn't sing, but no one can ever say I didn't sing."
 
From time to time, I have questioned why I am making a serious effort to study Bass as an older person. Today, however, a thought came to my mind: Jimmy Blanton; Scott Lafaro; Jaco Pastorius; Oscar Pettiford; Doug Rauch; did not know their lives would be short. They just got the most out of the time they had. That should be my approach, whether I have ten days or twenty-five years left to play.

It the main reason I still play. I’ve been fortunate to have been associated with the same players for almost is 50 years and it is a joy when we get together, but collectively, we all realize or time left to perform is drawing to a close. Each gig, recording, and get together is cherished.