Why Wiseacre?

Because we’re older and wiser, but we misplaced the user manual for the second half of life

Our parents’ lives supply us with no assembly instructions for a 21st-century midlife.

I’m a wiseacre and you may be, too. We wiseacres have been there, done that, gone around the block a few times, put on some road miles, and this is neither our first rodeo nor our last call.

Why “wiseacre”? In my book, which isn’t necessarily Merriam Webster’s, a wiseacre tenders worldly wisdom from a perch that’s irreverent, even smart-alecky. Life should be taken as seriously as necessary, but not seriouser.

This wiseacre aims to tender wisdom mainly about personal plate tectonics and the turmoil it fuels. Emotional tsunamis, financial meltdowns, creative volcanoes—we’re supposed to be winding down, but instead I’m seeing possibility and uncertainty that harken back to my third decade on earth. Scary shit, yet I haven’t felt so full of irrational exuberance since my 20s. Who knew.

Exactly the problem: Who knew? Our parents’ lives supply us with no assembly instructions for a 21st century midlife. At my age my parents had a retirement dream home, career-kicked-off adult children, and appropriately timed imminent grandchildren. I’m a single parent, of a 30-year-old who already has his own untimely (if adorable) kids, and I’m kicking off a new venture instead of racking up my 401k tally. I still work—finally doing the work I want to do.

About that “midlife.” OK, we all know we’re past the actuarial 50-yard line, yet we still feel betwixt all that came before and a hunk of life that lies ahead. So let’s not call it “late life”; let’s be on time.

Are you, too, recalculating your route? Want to take a ride together? Then kindly subscribe to Advancing blog posts (handy form below), like/follow our social media (handy links in website menu), join in the conversation, and eventually buy our books. The first one is about online dating for grownups, so that sort of tectonic tremor will be an initial focus here along with relationships in general.

But as Chief Wiseacre, I will, of course, allow myself to write about whatever I damn well please.

So who does she think she is? See Who’s Wiseacre?.
Want to make sure you don’t miss a blog post? Subscribe below.