Of Mice and Men in Life After 60

The best-laid plans. Seldom does anything go according to plan. I planned to be retired by 53. I also planned on till death do us part. Well, forces beyond my control changed those plans. Murphy’s law reared its ugly head. And this wasn’t the first time.
At 17 the girl I thought was Mrs. Right, decided I wasn’t. At 20 the girl that thought I was Mr. Right wasn’t. And finally, after 31 years of marriage, the girl I married at 21 discovered I wasn’t her idea of the perfect husband. And the band played on!
For as long as I can remember, I’ve had a Gypsy soul. Had I lived during the Depression I would have traveled the country looking for work and food. But I didn’t. I am a baby boomer, so my Gypsy got me into a lot of trouble. I never seemed to find my niche.
Maybe that’s why I am single. Or is it part of some grander plan that is yet to unfold? True there has been some great success by folks older than me. Harlin Sanders didn’t start Kentucky Fried Chicken till he was 65. And then there is Donald Trump. 72 years old and serving in the Oval Office.
Are men (and women as well) born into greatness or is it thrust upon them? Is it circumstance or providence? Freewill or predestination? Or in some cases just plain dumb luck! Every choice has its consequences.