I was planning to write about the dangers of unregulated artificial intelligence, but ChatGPT told me that AI is not inherently dangerous. So I’ll leave that subject for another day. Besides Monday was too good a day for pessimism.

With another birthday ended, I have outlived my father by four years. But I am not a lifetime tobacco smoker nor did my employment have me in marine engine rooms that had more diesel fumes than oxygen.

To outlive my mother, I need to last another 23 years. Some days, that seems possible; other days, not so much.

My mechanical knee is about the age of two grandsons soon to graduate from high school. The mechanical shoulder is a dozen years old and the porcine valve allowing oxygenated blood to leave my heart is not yet one year old. If I’m to make it past 100, like my mother and grandmother, medical professionals better improve their techniques of replacing body part replacements.

While growing old brings a set of physical challenges, it also brings experience, opportunities to reflect, and, if we’re fortunate, a little insight, knowledge, and wisdom. Of course, young people may assess the outcomes differently than the elderly.

A grandchild didn’t buy a claim that Monday’s holiday was established to celebrate my birthday. She thought it had something to do with a long-dead Hanoverian monarch. Nevertheless, the day was quite wonderful.

It began with a return to Carnarvon Park where number seven grandchild and other boys and girls were playing ball. The vibrant enthusiasm of youngsters elevates the mood of at least one creaky and cranky old guy.

Lunch was enjoyed at Granville Island’s waterfront Dockside Restaurant. Gwen and I looked at the northside of busy False Creek and recalled days before the land was crowded with high rise buildings. We wonder when the less densely populated southside will look the same.

We should remember Ron Basford, a delightful politician who had not just a vision for Vancouver, but the energy and influence to turn Granville Island into a place for people. Thank you Ron!

After lunch, Gwen and I visited Stanley Park. It lifts our spirits to see young and old enjoying the natural beauty of this 148 year-old urban parkland. Will it still exist like this in 50 years, or will real estate developers decide it is too valuable to waste on ordinary people, grass, and trees?

I suppose protection of Vancouver’s irreplaceable park will be decided by people like the children pictured above when they’ve reached adulthood and begun to think about something beyond life’s simple pleasures.