For those of you who are younger and have ideas about the lives of older people, let me tell you about my schedule from September 1-7, 2026, the year in which I reached the three-quarter of a century mark in my time on earth.

On September  first I flew from Denver to Charlotte, picked up my rental car and drove to Statesville, North Carolina where the good folks at the Wild Goose Festival had made a reservation for me at the Fairfield Inn. During the evening I finished the monthly books for RLT Pathways and compared them to my projections for the year.

First thing Wednesday morning I went walking in the woods for an hour and a half. Normally I would have run, but nagging tendinitis in my right knee has me walking and mountain biking instead of running at the moment. It is aggravating, but I’m fortunate that it is only my third running injury in 47 years. While walking I memorized my presentation for Wednesday evening, which I had written on the plane on the way to CLT the day before. One of these days I’ll explain my memorization process, honed over 55 years of public speaking.

When I got back to the hotel I had a session with a speaker’s coaching client in Georgia, a counseling session with a long-term client, then started going over my full day presentation for the pre-conference event on Thursday. I drove to the Goose site late Wednesday afternoon and gave the presentation three different times in a fireside chat for the presenters at Wild Goose 2026.

The next day I taught for five hours on “How to Stay Human in a Dehumanizing World.” I glanced at my notes exactly once, during a brief break. The material is the subject of my next book so I know it pretty well, but still, I surprised myself that I spoke for five hours without notes. You’ll have to ask the attendees how it went. It seemed to go really well, but then again, it was 95 degrees and we were sitting under a tent for five hours, so I might have been suffering from heat stroke.

After the pre-conference I attended Thursday evening’s opening session, then headed back to the hotel for a couple hours of delightful thought provoking conversation with other presenters at this year’s conference.

Friday morning I decided to make major changes to my 1:00 pm presentation, realizing some people from my marathon session the day before were likely to attend. I memorized the major points on my way to the Goose site. After the presentation I did a book signing at the bookstore, got together with my friend Stan Mitchell to plan our session for 4:00 pm, then attended a couple of sessions, one with Wild Goose founder Jeff Clark (also my age) and another with Colby Martin, author of Unclobber, the best book out there on what the Bible actually says about LGBTQ issues.

At 4:00, Stan and I did a session on Mary, Martha, and Lazarus that left me in tears. Stan is such a great preacher. To team up with him is always an honor. He did the lion’s share of the talking, at my suggestion, and I closed it out. I think it was my favorite session of the week.

After another late evening solving the world’s problems with friends, I went back to my room and worked on my Saturday afternoon workshop. I had to switch up that session because my co-presenter was unable to attend. There are always a lot of moving parts at the Goose.

I spent most of Saturday morning working on the afternoon session on the future of the church. I headed to the Goose site at about 11:00. At 2:00 an extremely nasty storm blew through that overturned tents, sent trees crashing into cars and empty tents, turned over porta-potties, and otherwise played havoc with the afternoon schedule. Fortunately no one was hurt. My 5:00 pm session was cancelled. But the mini-presentation of a new musical being written about southern gospel music still took place at 6:00, much to my great delight. The presentation was fantastic. One of my friends said it was as enjoyable watching me watch the concert as the concert itself.

Saturday evening brought another night of my favorite thing at the Goose, deep conversations about things that matter with other presenters at the conference. It is one of few annual opportunities to spend several days with some of the best post-evangelical thinkers.

Sunday morning I drove my rental car back to the Charlotte airport and had a long talk with Earlene, who has worked at the CLT Admiral’s Club for a hundred years. We wondered how anyone would want to retire when you love what you do.

So many of the staff at the Charlotte club knew me as Paul and have fully embraced me as Paula. So yes, the staff at an airline club have been more charitable toward me than hundreds of former Christian co-workers.

I headed over to the “B” club to say hi to Pam, also at the club since the USAir days, then flew back to Denver. With some time to kill on arrival I went to the club at DEN and talked with my friends there, most of whom were not alive when I bought my lifetime club pass in 1982 for $400. It was a very good purchase, since it now costs over a thousand dollars per year.

Paula Bartlett, my girlfriend, called to give me her airport pickup ETA after teaching yoga, and we headed back to the house where we spent a leisurely evening reading the New York Times and marveling that we were not reading the satirical paper, The Onion. What was chronicled in the Times were actual events occurring in Washington, D.C. in real time. God help us.

First thing Labor Day morning we headed to the barn so Paula could ride her dressage horse, Lyrik, then came back the house where we hauled rocks for the rest of the day, rebuilding part of the landscaping in the back yard. (Picture proudly attached.) After dinner we had a long talk about logical positivism. Seriously, you can ask Paula. But I will admit, that kind of conversation is not the norm. We also talk about things like poetry, literature, and spirituality. Uh, come to think of it, I guess we are nerds.

Paula left early Tuesday morning to drive to her job as a school administrator in Colorado Springs, and I headed to a meeting with the board chair of Front Range Community College, where I am considering joining the board of directors.  That completed the seven days.

Granted, because of the Wild Goose Festival, the first week of September was not a typical week, but it wasn’t exatly atypical either. After finishing this post I’ll work on the last few edits to my next book proposal, then look at the notes for my evening board of directors meeting for the Lyons Creative District. I may be 75, but I’m not slowing down.

William Butler Yeats wrote, An aged man is but a paltry thing, a tattered coat upon a stick, unless soul clap hands and sing, and more loudly sing for every tatter in its moral dress.

I’m clapping hands and singing.