This is 72: Retired Journalist David Hunter Bishop Responds to The Oldster Magazine Questionnaire

"I keep putting fuel in the tank and surprise myself sometimes at how far it takes me. Sometimes the engine stalls, though, and you just have to appreciate where you are."

From the time I was 10, I’ve been obsessed with what it means to grow older. I’m curious about what it means to others, of all ages, and so I invite them to take “The Oldster Magazine Questionnaire.” Here, retired journalist

David Hunter Bishop

responds. - Sari Botton

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“I celebrated my 70th birthday in 2021 in Tbilisi, getting Walt Whitman's immortal words from Leaves of Grass tattooed on my arm. My Canadian friend Suzanne documented it later with this fine photo taken in Batumi.”

David Hunter Bishop retired from a career in journalism and politics in Hawaii in 2013. Disenchanted with prospects for a satisfying post-career life in paradise, however, and newly divorced, he began a solo world journey and has traveled the world since 2016. Born and raised in Southern New Jersey, he currently resides in Tbilisi, Georgia, where he intends to complete a manuscript of his memoir in 2025. He has two sons, James, 33, a freelance video game developer and business management consultant based in Tulsa, Oklahoma, and David (Mackey), 31, a conservation manager for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service in Hawaii.

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How old are you?

I am 72, preparing to celebrate my 73rd birthday in Tbilisi on Dec. 23, 2024.

Is there another age you associate with yourself in your mind? If so, what is it? And why, do you think?

I don’t recall associating myself with any age other than the one I last celebrated. I think I’ve always been comfortable with my age. I can say, however, that I do look forward to 73. That was the age my father died a sad, tragic death. He lived longer than anyone else in my small family so far. A few years ago a friend asked me how long I wanted to continue traveling. I thought for a moment and said I’d like to be able to live long enough to travel for at least as long as my dad lived, perhaps as sort of a tribute to him, and continue traveling as long as I am able beyond that.

I don’t feel that old, although some ailments have crept up on me lately. But that’s to be expected in your eighth decade, I guess. I’ve been keenly aware of the need to care for my health and have been serious about that since I quit smoking and drinking in 2019 when diagnosed with COPD. Before that, I consumed a lot of alcohol and smoked a lot of marijuana.

Do you feel old for your age? Young for your age? Just right? Are you in step with your peers?

When I think about turning 73, it surprises me. I don’t feel that old, although some ailments have crept up on me lately. But that’s to be expected in your eighth decade, I guess. I’ve been keenly aware of the need to care for my health and have been serious about that since I quit smoking and drinking in 2019 when diagnosed with COPD. Before that, I consumed a lot of alcohol and smoked a lot of marijuana.

The COPD diagnosis was a significant wake-up call, however. Overnight I quit smoking, stopped drinking alcohol, and started exercising regularly and significantly improved my diet. By doing these things I’ve managed to keep that serious disease at bay and live a healthy, satisfying life over the past five years. And I don’t think much about my age in relation to my peers, although I think with the sometimes difficult changes I’ve made, I’m healthier than most people I know at my age, but comparisons aren’t really productive. I'm just trying to stay healthy day-to-day for myself.

“I met this friendly old guy while hiking in Georgia's gorgeous Caucasus Mountains in 2022.”

What do you like about being your age?

I get a certain amount of appreciation and respect from people who realize my age and what I do to maintain my health, which is gratifying, but I would say there’s not much that’s really good about aging. That road only travels in one direction, after all, and it keeps needing repair. All you can do is try to enjoy the ride and what remains of the journey while it lasts.

What is difficult about being your age?

This is so far the most difficult question to answer. I keep putting fuel in the tank and surprise myself sometimes at how far it takes me. Sometimes the engine stalls, though, and you just have to appreciate where you are. Maintaining that perspective without frustration isn’t alway easy, I suppose, if that answers the question.

I do look forward to 73. That was the age my father died a sad, tragic death. He lived longer than anyone else in my small family so far. A few years ago a friend asked me how long I wanted to continue traveling. I thought for a moment and said I’d like to be able to live long enough to travel for at least as long as my dad lived, perhaps as sort of a tribute to him, and continue traveling as long as I am able beyond that.

What is surprising about being your age, or different from what you expected, based on what you were told? 

Not much surprises me any more. And I really don’t recollect much of what I might’ve been told about it, if anything, nor thought much about what to expect. I did take the late actor-philosopher Bruce Lee’s advice: “All things move to live; the more they move the stronger they get.” And surprisingly, I found, Walt Whitman wrote something similar in Leaves of Grass: “Forever Alive, Forever Forward”, which I had tattooed on my right forearm for my 70th birthday. Now, Whitman inspires me every day with that on my journey. My only tat.

“Taken on the Zambesi River between Zambia and Zimbabwe after hiking down to the river from Victoria Falls on the Zambia side. Above and behind me is the Victoria Falls Bridge.”

What has aging given you? Taken away from you? 

Aging gives you a broader perspective on all thing in life. The longer you live, the broader your perspective. At the same time it takes away your full ability to appreciate all that perspective. My cognitive abilities are beginning to decline, for example, such as memory, which rubs the shine off the perspective.

I get a certain amount of appreciation and respect from people who realize my age and what I do to maintain my health, which is gratifying, but I would say there’s not much that’s really good about aging. That road only travels in one direction, after all, and it keeps needing repair. All you can do is try to enjoy the ride and what remains of the journey while it lasts.

How has getting older affected your sense of yourself, or your identity?

I’m not sure how age has affected a sense of myself, or my identity. I think I still know who I am and I think I have a good idea of what I can and can’t do.

What are some age-related milestones you are looking forward to? Or ones you “missed,” and might try to reach later, off-schedule, according to our culture and its expectations?

I already mentioned my father's age in that regard. After that, I feel like I’ll just be on a glide path in the wind, not trying to over-manage my direction. Otherwise, the question carries the urge not to miss something, and a view of “our culture and its expectations” that apparently I don’t share. I don’t travel like that. At this time I want to complete this memoir manuscript, and some aspects of my journey may have to be put off until I complete it, but that’s just a matter of planning, nothing to do with “our culture and its expectations,” since I’m not sure what that means.

What has been your favorite age so far, and why? Would you go back to this age if you could?

I probably enjoyed my 20s and 30s more than any other part of my life. The discoveries, freedoms, and energy to explore and learn with few inhibitions and responsibilities were all very exciting in those years. But I’ve no yearning to go back to any place in my life. Those early, youthful years were very good to experience once, but once was enough.

Is there someone who is older than you, who makes growing older inspiring to you? Who is your aging idol, and why?

Right off the top of my head I’d say

Abigail Thomas

. I’ve been reading her Substack and find her enduring spirit and carefree approach to life at, what is it, 83?, to be a marvelous inspiration.

Aging gives you a broader perspective on all thing in life. The longer you live, the broader your perspective. At the same time it takes away your full ability to appreciate all that perspective. My cognitive abilities are beginning to decline, for example, such as memory, which rubs the shine off the perspective.

What aging-related adjustments have you recently made, style-wise, beauty-wise, health-wise?

I’ve talked about my health, continuing to maintain a healthy diet and exercise regimen since 2019. Beauty and style, however are not really concerns. So I can’t think of any adjustments I’ve made recently. Wait, when I started traveling in 2016, I stopped driving and let my license lapse. Haven’t renewed my license or driven since. That, I think, was a significant lifestyle change, prompted by a couple of accidents in Hawaii and the overall cost of driving.

“Chewing a wad of coca leaves high above the Urubamba River at Machu Picchu in Peru.”

What’s an aging-related adjustment you refuse to make, and why?

I had to think about this a while, and perhaps one adjustment I’ve refused to succumb to is the packaged, guided group tours, excursions, cruises, and such that so many senior travelers find comfort in taking. I would rather walk solo to explore an unfamiliar part of a city where you’re advised not to go alone than to “see the sights” on a packaged guided tour.

I would have paid more attention to my parents while they were living. They were loving, caring, supportive, and uncomplaining parents and I should given them so much more in return for their steadfast support and kindnesses to my brother and me. My deep sense of regret, and the terrible circumstances of these deaths, are at the heart of the memoir I’m writing.

What turn of events had the biggest impact on your life? What took your life in a different direction, for better or worse?

The deaths of my parents in ‘97 and ‘98, and my brother, my only sibling, in ‘05, had a tremendous impact on my life. They were my entire family. My mother had intestinal cancer that spread throughout her body, but she lived several years until my father died suddenly of an extremely rare cancer without telling anyone of his symptoms while caring for our mom.

She was then in terrible pain and misery and begged my brother and I to help her die because she believed our dad was waiting for her on the other side of this life. Her hospice program stopped giving her the morphine she needed for the pain, and would have helped her die. She was terribly distraught and in great pain. Despite laws that prohibited assisted death, my brother and I tried to help her die and failed miserably. Thankfully, she died on her own within days. Incredibly, my brother died seven years later of the same “extremely rare” cancer that took our dad. My brother a wonderfully gifted musician, was 56. This series of events took a terrible toll on my mental health.

What is your number one regret in life? If you could do it all over again, what is the biggest thing you’d do differently?

I would have paid more attention to my parents while they were living. They were loving, caring, supportive, and uncomplaining parents and I should given them so much more in return for their steadfast support and kindnesses to my brother and me. My deep sense of regret, and the terrible circumstances of these deaths, are at the heart of the memoir I’m writing.

What is high up on your “bucket list?” What do you hope to achieve, attain, or plain enjoy before you die?

Completing the memoir in tribute to the memory of my family is highest on my list. After that, if I am still able and have the resources, I will likely continue traveling until tiring. There will be no more “bucket list.”

Is there a piece of advice you were given, that you live by? If so, what was it, and who offered it to you?

I don’t recall where I learned this, but over the years I was prone to outbreaks of anger when things didn’t go as I would have liked. But somewhere along the way, I learned the simple concept of letting go, and moving on. Whatever it was that bothered me, I would forget about it, render it unimportant, and just drop it alongside the road I was on without looking back, enjoying the peace of mind it brought, clearing the way forward. When I felt anger welling inside me, I remembered the six words that gave me solace. I would tell myself, just “Let it go, and move on.”

What are your plans for your body when you’re done using it? Burial? Cremation? Body Farm? Other? And what do you expect to happen to your “soul” or “spirit” after you die?

I have a plan for my body that I don’t choose to discuss at this time. In terms of the soul or spirit, I don’t believe there is anything like that after a body dies. Lately, though, I do wonder if perhaps the so-called “dark matter” of the universe might, in fact, be the vast repository of our collective souls and spirits. Could be, COULD BE! So now I’m sounding like an old Firesign Theater riff. Hello Seekers!

I don’t recall where I learned this, but over the years I was prone to outbreaks of anger when things didn’t go as I would have liked. But somewhere along the way, I learned the simple concept of letting go, and moving on. Whatever it was that bothered me, I would forget about it, render it unimportant, and just drop it alongside the road I was on without looking back, enjoying the peace of mind it brought, clearing the way forward. When I felt anger welling inside me, I remembered the six words that gave me solace. I would tell myself, just “Let it go, and move on.”

What’s your philosophy on celebrating birthdays as an adult? How do you celebrate yours?

Honestly, I don’t pay much attention to the day. It was always lost in the midst of Christmas, anyway. The birthdays come and go. But that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the attention and companionship of good friends on these occasions. My Canadian friend Suzanne met me in Batumi, Georgia, to celebrate my birthday in 2021, maybe it was ‘22. She photographed me with my newly tattooed arm with the Whitman quote, and we went out for dinner. That was the last friend-attended celebration I recall.

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