Boomers Swapping Sports Cars for ‘Exhilarating Comfort’



As an urban dweller of a certain age, I can tell you unequivocally that my demographic [those born between 1946 and 1964] has, in large part, swapped their Porsche sports cars for everything but.

…and the reasons may surprise you.

First, city life, in general, means endless traffic jams [day and night], pot holes, long commutes and texting drivers oblivious to reality as the rest of us know it.

Thus, the probability of being eating alive by the urban terrain isn’t worth it.

And while many guys I know own motorcycles, but they only ride them in groups, usually for charity events.

The rest have migrated to Range Rover, BMW, Mercedes Benz…and the Porsche Macan.

They’re safe, comfortable and powerful.

What’s not to love?


1] Urbania is a nightmare to navigate. Getting to 60 mph is almost unheard of in most metropolises.

2] SUV’s are well-adapted to lifestyles that don’t involves back and forth to the office routines. Many guys I know use the larger vehicles for the purposes they were intended because they have more leisure time.

3] Safety is a big deal at this stage of life, so why risk serious injury in a fender-bended if you don’t have to?

4] Many guys I know actually like the amenities of larger vehicles, like having cup holders, great sound systems and plush leather seats. And while this may sound a lot like moving away from excitement towards comfort, I might suggest to you that after reading the aforementioned 3 items, this begins to make a lot more sense.

5] We feel like complete idiots driving around in Carrera Turbo’s unless we’re on a racetrack, which we’re not.


Not many years ago I owned sports cars. Fast ones. Flashy ones.

And then the whole thing got old.

I felt self-conscious…pretentious, perhaps.

Driving these types of vehicles makes one very, very conscious of other drivers, which becomes exhausting.

Now I drive a Land Rover LR4, and I love it.

Nobody tries to drag me at stoplights, I haven’t received a speeding ticket in years, and I can actually drive up to a restaurant without people staring at me like I’m some sort of sugar daddy wanna-be rock star in terminal adolescence.

Nuf’ said.

Gotta’ Love Mickey Rourke


Baby Boomer, Mickey Rourke, 64, struts his crazy shit in Beverly Hills like nobody’s business.


Look at this guy: 64-year-old amalgamation of physical strength and gender-bender audacity.

He’s irony in motion, annihilator of boundaries, the Louis Vitton and Pomeranian standing guard at the castle gates.

After a certain point in life, successful artists just don’t give a crap what you think.

They care about what they think, which inspires the rest of humanity question conformity in general.

So while most guys his age [and level of success] don’t look anything like Mickey Rourke, inside we’re all very similar: Driven, defiant, audacious, struggling to keep the pool of relevance deep and vast against what seems like endless odds.

For this alone you have to give credit where it’s due. Mickey Rourke has taunted fate, living his life inside out in all its glory.

His appearance is emblematic.

Whatever his deepest motives if there are any], the man lives life with a middle finger to the wind, and for that he deserves respect.

Physical Strength and Dexterity the Key To Good Mental Health [in Boomers]

maxresdefaultSylvester Stallone, 70.

Ever read a story along the lines of … “61 year old man knocked to the ground by two teenage girls?”

When you’re in that chronological ballpark, the story becomes more about you than it does what happened to someone in some small town far, far away.

Could I have defended myself in that situation?

Would the teens have even dared approach me, given my physical condition and size?

What would happen if I somehow lost my ability to defend myself in a situation like this?

Would life even be worth living?

Would I have to move to some gated retirement community with 24-hopur armed security to protect me?

As weird as this may sound, the right answers to these questions are at the core of good mental health for men my age.

I have always been very athletic.

To this day I hold the USAPL Texas State record in the Power lift.

I can still run, jump, climb, swim, bike, throw a football…all the things I could do 30 years ago.

But it isn’t 30 years ago. Now I have to warm up, stretch, prepare for battle.

No longer are the days when I went from idle to full bore without missing a beat.

See, no matter what you do to maintain yourself, there’s always a price to pay.

This is why so many older men do stupid shit.

You can fill in the blanks here. I don’t need to reiterate what I’ve said a thousand times before.

In the end, what all older men fear most is Indignity.

Once you understand that, you begin to understand older men.

Time Waits for No One, Especially Older Men Who Spend Their Lives on a Couch [at home]

time-knows-no-time-and-waits-for-no-one-255x327As we age, we fall apart.

This is normal and natural.

Falling apart is life’s way of preparing us for death, when we look at our situation and decide it’s better to die than go through any more of the crap we may be facing.

You think back to a time when playing flag football on a beach was no big deal. You walked out to the beach and started throwing the damn ball. Done. if there was no ball, there was a Frisbee. If not that then rocks. Whatever.

There was no shoulder pain, no need to warm up. The joints were healthy, the mind free of all the bullshit that accumulates over time, like clothing you never wear but never seem to get rid of.

Stay in this mindset long enough and you fall into the rumination pit. So get out before it’s too late.

You know where you are, what the situation is, where you are in the scheme of life. The best you can do is mitigate the damage.


By changing everything about your life, excluding nothing.

You will transition from loving meals to hating them. Taking its place will be the shrinking waistline, improved mobility, and absence of adult onset diabetes.

This is why older people are so often heard ordering “fabulous salads” at dinner, when you know they want that rib-eye and mashed potatoes.

It’s a mind trick we all ply on ourselves to get through the payment process to good health.

Then there’s the gym. Yea, the gym. As in you’ll have to go to the gym all the time – and I mean all the time – because anything less than 5 days a week constitutes weekend warrior status, which is worse than not doing anything at all.

If you don’t believe me, try it.

And don’t get me started on how much sleep you’ll need to recover or how much you’ll have to pay a personal trainer to keep you on track.

And did I mention friends, wives and/or girlfriends?

Yea, that too. You’ll need new friends who live healthy lifestyles or you will drop your fitness routine faster than your next heart attack.

And this applies to the significant other in your life. If she’s a fat-ass, you’ll follow suit.

Fitness couples are like codependents. Some think of AA sponsors.

It’s that important.

So now you hate to eat, must face a gym 5 days a week, establish new friendships, and perhaps, find a new wife.

This is when many older men find a therapist and buy an apartment for a stripper.

After all of this is done, you have to be able to let go.

Of everything. Of fate. Inevitability.

You have to accept where you are and go out doing things you love…even if doing them will kill you.

It’s not like you wouldn’t be there already of you hadn’t paid the aforementioned price.

The Forensics of Rich Older Men and the Young Women in Their Lives


“Hell yes, I’m down. No money. Psychiatric problems I can’t even pronounce. No job prospects. One foot in the gutter. So yea, that old man looks damn good at this point. What other choice do I have? It’s hell out here and I’m not getting any younger…”


After a certain point, relationships tend to be more about conscious asset balancing. This is not cynicism. It’s just another door to love, rather than the one we used when we were in our twenties.

Thus, when people see young women in the company of much older men, they see a very specific equation. But there’s often a lot more to it.

For example, let’s say an affluent man of 65 begins to see a woman of 35.

He may be in excellent physical health while she’s one foot under a bridge.

Men her age aren’t interested in her because she’s fallen through the cracks, in spite of a lingering beauty, unmistakable from days gone by.

Such men easily find others their own age who are successful attorneys, doctors, engineers and other gainfully employed professionals without the physical and psychiatric disabilities.

So she makes a conscious decision to do something about it by leveraging what she does have [youth and lingering beauty] against everything she doesn’t [the list is endless], and comes up with a man 30 years her senior willing to take her on in exchange for companionship and the prospect of real love.

He’s old and successful, she’s relatively young and broken, but with the proper care and financial resources he can rebuild a broken soul while satisfying his own needs at the same time.

She gets elaborate shelter, a constant resupply of meds, funds for medical check-ups, plastic surgery, fillers, Botox, travel and a closet full of designer clothing.

What’s not to love?

Over time she reemerges as someone else, a better her, the one she left behind a decade ago now on top of the human food chain.

And while she did, in fact, “sacrifice” years [Read: work], her efforts paid off handsomely.

Now you know why so many young women are in the company of rich older men, and why money is only part of the equation.

Baby Boomers Finding Fitness Groove in Houston


The article makes some good points about aging and athletics.

But there is far more to the story as I will detail shortly, blow by blow.


By the time most people hit 60, it’s pretty much game over as far as living life to its fullest is concerned.

Most of that’s in the past, the memories, when a good night’s sleep was irrelevant.

These days, it’s more about a nice place near a beach, and plenty of whiskey.

Of course, I don’t know any of these people.

The people I do know are still semi-active in their careers, and regulars in the gym.

But I live in a bog city where the bar is set sky high.

In other words, people don’t see 60 as the end of days, but rather the beginning of a new dawn where even actuarial tables are considered abstractions.


The Baby Boom is a period in history between 1946 and 1964.

There are roughly 77 million of us between the ages of 52 and 70.

We’re facing body changes that include a slower metabolism, arthritis, menopause, weakening joints, and, of course, depression.



People at this age, with time to focus on workouts and the lifestyle that goes with it, are already successful in their careers.

Money buys the time, and this is a big deal because fitness is not just what happens in the gym.

So rule #1 is to have reasonable degree of financial independence.

Once you pass this initial test, you’re ready to start –– or continue, as the case may be.

As a lifelong athlete, I can tell you unequivocally that even for someone like myself with decades of training behind me, shit changes…and it feels like it comes in the night and takes what the hell it wants.

I wake up exhausted most days. Even the days I don’t, I’m still exhausted, relatively speaking.

It’s part physical, part existential [psychological].

I don’t know whether I want to get up and be productive or surf beachfront properties.

There’s this push-pull dynamic that I don’t recall experiencing in my past.

Then there’s the endless inflammation, the rehab from anti-inflammatories to prevent liver failure, the weird little shit that pops up every 5 minutes for no apparent reason other than what comes across as taunts.

This is why you needs friends who help support your efforts, your lifestyle –– particularly if you’re just starting out.

So Rule #2 is to have friends who like to workout.

Without a support network you are dead in the water, because, at some point, you’re going to give up without encouragement.

No 60-year-old in his right mind is going to workout unless he can share the journey with like minded friends, people who prop him up like AA sponsors.

Then there’s the whole low testosterone things, which, on some level, affects all of us at some point.

Many guys I know are on testosterone supplements, which is not without risks, but worth it if you don’t care what happens to you in 10 years.

To them, it’s the next 10 years that matter. You’ll have to decide for yourself if the risks outweigh the rewards.

Rule #3 is to get your Tes levels checked.

If they are ridiculously low, Prada makes beautiful syringe cases for your drugs.

There are also countless physicians who make handsome livings prescribing steroids to successful older men.

Rule #4 is to get more rest than you think you need no matter how little time you think you have left.

With or without the drugs, you’re going to need extra rest to recover from tough workouts…and, by the way, those are the only workouts you should ever have if you want to get anywhere.

If you’re going to piddle around, just stay home. Gym workouts are not for the faint-hearted, which brings me to Rule #5.

Rule #5 is to find a therapist if you don’t already have one.

Most older men get depressed, and without a healthy outlet beyond the gym, we tend to do stupid shit like buy motorcycles or bring in a hooker.

The best approach is to get help for the inevitable existential drear that comes with aging, and combine it with tough physical training.

If these two don’t nail it, call a priest.

In a way, staying fit at 60 is like boot camp used to be, only this time around you get to the final chapter in one piece

Another upside is that you’re not training for actual war, though it may feel like it.

Too Much Rumination Is Costly, Believe Me


Okay, so I’ve been on the road a while –– business meetings, photo-shoots, family gatherings and such, so posting to this blog has not been my first priority, though I’m told by mental health professionals that it should be.

They always tell you this because thinking too little is bad for their business model.

Thus, ruminate as little as possible if you want to avoid therapy bills.

I’ll leave it at that. Like I said, I’m on the road.

Back shortly…