Sitting, Standing and Aging

It’s come to this:

If I stand too long, I need to sit.

If I sit too long, I need to stand.

This is not the way it used to be. I remember grooving with a gang of friends at a Jimmy Buffet back in 1990 and getting barked at by the old fogies behind us who wanted us to sit down. Now I’m one of those old fogies, except that I because I remember youth, I never tell someone to sit down. I just deal with it and wish I was forty years younger.

Last October I attended a Major League Baseball playoff game with an expensive seat that I paid for, and from the opening notes of “The Star Bangled Banner” until the last toss to first base, the crowd stood. Similarly, when I went to a Keane concert at the Chicago Theater in 2024 with an expensive seat that I paid for, from the opening chord into the last note of the encore, the crowd stood. I said not a word at either event, but I sure had to pick my spots to take a little breather and remind my body that it just had to hang in there for a little while longer.

Why? Why do we feel compelled to stand when we can just as easily see the action with our butts on the seats we paid for? There must be something about the act of standing that feels more engaged, more intentional, but man, do I wish it wasn’t so.

At least with a paid seat you can rest from time to time, but after attending an SRO concert in Chicago last fall, I think I’ve sworn off these venues for good. I spent much of the night shifting from side to side and taking stretch breaks and walks to loosen my limbs. I just can’t do it anymore.

“Maybe it’s just standing in place that’s a problem. What if you’re moving around?”

Yeah, well, that can be an issue, too. When I work at the record store, I’m fairly mobile, restocking shelves, retrieving inventory, alphabetizing and helping customers. But after just two or three hours, my back feels like it’s a corkscrew.

“Well then, sitting must surely be okay.”

Oh, if only! I played piano on Christmas Eve at a church service, and I was reminded that extended sessions at a piano bench are no better than standing. After every carol ended in a “Halleluiah” or “Fa La La,” I took an opportunity to stand and stretch.

“So you can’t stand, you can’t walk around and you can’t sit. What can you do?”

Um…honestly, complain. That’s about all I have left.