April 28, 2005
Over
The other day I was looking back up the hill I’m sometimes told that I’m over and wondering exactly where the downhill started. As I thought about it, the logic of the Over-the-Hill notion of life is that there’s only one zenith. That there is only one seems logical, of course, if not all that clear. I’ve not a lot of trouble remembering the multiple nadirs, but if there is only one top, forget it.
As it goes in mountain climbing, getting to the top seems always a mighty important occasion. Some people plant flags (usually one from whatever country they call home or that paid for the trip) or build a more permanent monument called a stele (or with an -a, according to most crossword puzzles).
The moon is a kind of a hill to be over, and the guys who went there planted a flag. But there’s no atmosphere on the moon, hence, no breeze. These “climbers” wanted their flag to show and not just hang there, limp, so you could see who the moon belonged to. So they had to brace it to hold it out and make it look as if it was in the midst of some sort of a wave on the Beaufort Scale. I guess it’s still there, “waving” back at us.
I was once a member of a group of eight or so folk, each of whom had practiced or was still practicing some sort of professional counseling. We called ourselves the Over the Hill Gang, and we provided audience and counsel when asked for those who’d not yet crossed over, who were still, one might say, under the hill and on one of the climbing sides.
Most hills have a number of climbing sides, some easier than others, but only one top. It’s probably good for the climbers to have an idea what the top looks like so they could recognize it when they get there. So our function as the OTHG was maybe to tell them what to look for, what was the evidence, what were the signs, and where might be the best way up so one could at least get a toehold.
Like you might imagine, I wasn’t much help. Being a member of the OTHG, though, and like most teachers, I had plenty of opportunities to learn more than I taught.