Young' may be in the title

The Boston Herald

I wish I had circled the number of times I read the word "young" in last week's newspapers. It, or a close variation, was in every story mentioning Bill Clinton's first address before a joint session of Congress.

The "youthful president" said this. His "youthful enthusiasm" meant that. Reporters wrote about a "younger generation." There was even mention of Clinton's "youthful vitality."

The words were music to my ears.

I think even Peter Jennings slipped in the "Y" word a few times in his commentary after the speech. He must have because I went to bed Wednesday night not dreading the next day, but almost anticipating it.

For on Thursday, I became the president's age, which everyone was effusing was still young.

For weeks before his youthfully spirited address, I was, I confess, obsessing about this impending birthday. I was doing the number thing. You know, 46 is closer to 50 than it is to 40; 46 is closer to 60 than it is to 30.

I was doing the mirror thing, too - lingering before it, peering into it. I stood there, inspecting lines I don't have to strain to see anymore, crow's feet that actually look like the work of mean-spirited crows; parentheses around the mouth that I could hide half-dollars in.

Plus I was doing the let's look through old pictures thing, too, thinking how young I used to be, how young the kids used to be, how young everyone used to be, revving up for a Grade A crisis.

But then came the newscasters and commentators, all glowingly referring to a man my age as "young." And I wondered, could I be mistaken? Could it be that 46 is young? Entertaining that possibility was the best birthday present a person my age could get.

Maybe it was a delusion. Maybe it was a major league delusion. But it got me through the day. I relished the possibility. I perked up at every "Y" word.

The truth, of course, dawns on me now, a few days later. (With age comes wisdom?) Although 46 might be young for a president or a pope or some other top-ranking head of something, it is, for most everyone else, unarguably middle age.

Consider, for example, if a 46-year-old man has a book published, nobody refers to him as a "young author." If a 46-year-old woman graduates from college, no one calls her a "young graduate." If a 46-year-old woman has a baby, no one would ever say she's a young mother. Just as beauty is in the eye of the beholder, is it possible that youth is in the title of the beheld?

Or is there another lesson, more direct and far simpler? Could it be that the reason Clinton is perceived as young is that he acts young? He's not afraid to try new things. He's not afraid to stand up before Congress, the nation and the world and act enthusiastic instead of weary, and say what he believes, instead of what's safe.

He's not afraid to argue that this country can be a better place for everyone if everyone wants it to be, and if everyone pulls together. He's not afraid to dream and to chase ideals. That's what "young" does. To the young, nothing is impossible.

Of course, there are the naysayers and the cynics who are quick to tear him apart. Get your head out of the clouds, they say. You don't know what you're talking about. Your plans won't work.

That's what they told Peter Ueberroth when he was baseball commissioner and ordered drug tests "from owners on down." Ueberroth wanted baseball to be the leader in eliminating drugs from society, but he was told his was an unworkable idea.

It wasn't. It's working.

Ueberroth was also told he'd be nuts to accept the position of organizing the summer Olympics in Los Angeles. The games were doomed, most everyone agreed. No one could get so large and diverse a community to put aside individual goals and work together.

But the games weren't doomed. They were an incredible success. Why? Because Ueberroth believed they would be.

Bill Clinton believes the United States can be one nation working together for the benefit of all. "If one aims one's arrows at the sky, they will at least get to the top of the tree." The young aim their arrows at the sky while the old stand around and grouse that they'll never hit their mark.

Attitude, not age, is what makes Clinton young. I like his hope, his enthusiasm, his optimism. I like being young again