“This is the thing, you see: I am on my way to being an old man. But at sixty, I am still the youngest of old men.”
As acclaimed journalist and author Ian Brown’s sixtieth birthday loomed, every moment seemed to present a choice: Confront, or deny, the biological fact that the end was now closer than the beginning. Brown chose instead to notice every moment—to try to capture precisely what he was experiencing, without panicking. Sixty is the result: an uncensored, seriocomic report, a slalom of day-to-day dramas (as husband, father, brother, friend, and neighbor), inquisitive reporting, and acute insights from the line between middle-aged and soon-to-be-elderly.
As acclaimed journalist and author Ian Brown’s sixtieth birthday loomed, every moment seemed to present a choice: Confront, or deny, the biological fact that the end was now closer than the beginning. Brown chose instead to notice every moment—to try to capture precisely what he was experiencing, without panicking. Sixty is the result: an uncensored, seriocomic report, a slalom of day-to-day dramas (as husband, father, brother, friend, and neighbor), inquisitive reporting, and acute insights from the line between middle-aged and soon-to-be-elderly.
