AARP The Magazine - January/February 2010

Clint Eastwood

(CONTINUED FROM PAGE 32)

Mystic River, Flags of Our Fathers— it pushes audiences to think about difficult, sometimes uncomfortable issues. Set in South Africa amid the fall of apartheid, Invictus is the true story of Nelson Mandela’s release from prison and his determined plan to use World Cup rugby as a path to racial harmony.

“I’m always trying to tackle subjects that tax me and make me think,” Eastwood says. “The brain has to be exercised the same as the rest of the body.” With a nod to Walt Kowalski, the Gran Torino character whose lifelong racism gives way to understanding and compassion, Eastwood believes “the never-too-old-to-learn philosophy” is a rich topic at this stage in life.

At every age, Eastwood has chal-
lenged himself to learn and grow. Born
in San Francisco in 1930, he watched
his father struggle through the De-
pression and World War II as a sales-
man and steelworker while the family
crisscrossed California, a one-wheeled
trailer loaded with their belongings in
tow. Eastwood was soon working hard
himself, first playing piano for free
meals at an Oakland nightclub while
in high school, and later as a lumber-
jack and firefighter, before becoming
an actor. An Army stint in the Korean
War was a formative part of a full
American experience that included a
two-year term as mayor of Carmel and
associations with Republican political
candidates, even while his steadfast
libertarian views led him eventually
to decry the Iraq war. Along the way,
Eastwood became a father of seven
children by five women. “You come to
realize that marriage is not just about
love,” he says of his current happy mar-
riage of 14 years to former TV reporter
Dina Ruiz, 35 years his junior. “It’s
about like as well.”
Today Eastwood is the picture of
understated dignity. He doesn’t dress
up his conversation with pretenses or
self-aggrandizement, and he sticks to
clean, spare observations and choice

62 AARPJANUARY&FEBRUARY2010

clips of wisdom. “Follow what you
think,” he says. “You want to do some-
thing? Just do it the best you can,
whatever that is. I’m not saying every-
one makes a phenomenal thing. But
you can fail on your own terms.”
Above all, Eastwood appears to
savor life. “You don’t have to rush
down the hill,” he says. “You can walk
down.” And despite unimaginable
success, he does not confuse his fame
or fortune with meaning.

“He’s someone who never gets
wrapped up in himself,” Freeman says.
Eastwood’s ability to stay grounded
may come from his many high-flying
interests outside show biz. He pilots
helicopters, speaks fluent Italian, and
is an accomplished jazz pianist and
composer. He’s also refreshingly low-
tech. “You see a couple in a restaurant,
and both of them will be texting at the
table,” he says. “Don’t people talk any-
more?” As he sees it, “the main thing
is not how long you’re on the planet,
but the quality you have while you’re
here. That was always the only thing
that really mattered.”
A statement like that could be read
as an epilogue, but Eastwood clearly
wants to keep working. “My dad was
always talking about retiring and sit-
ting next to a stream with a couple of
beers in his hand,” he says. “Sounds
like a commercial, but [retirement]
is not for me.” Eastwood exercises
vigorously every day and stays up till
midnight many nights reading scripts
and fine-tuning his material. He’s
already working on his next movie,
the supernatural thriller Hereafter.
And Invictus is an early front-runner
for an Oscar nod this year.

Of course, if he were in it only for the awards, he could have quit ages ago. “The reason I don’t retire is that I learn something new every day,” Eastwood says. There is humility in his voice, and perhaps a bit of wonder. “It’s about expanding, constantly pushing yourself.” He challenges audiences by challenging himself— and inspires us all in the process. ;

David Hochman writes frequently for The New York Times, Parade, and TV Guide.

(CONTINUED FROM PAGE 54)

Music on Vinyl

to the bathroom.” On my favorite album, Electric Light Orchestra’s Eldorado, Jeff Lynne ends Side One on a chord progression that is left unresolved until Side Two.

Your Song

In my world, digital and vinyl have found a way to coexist: when I’m on the subway, or walking on a bustling city sidewalk, the slightly shrill digital music flowing through my earbuds seems appropriate. At home, however—where I’m bathed in the warmth of family and familiar surroundings— the sounds from my old record player seem to float from room to room, filling every corner with aural incense.

“Vinyl will never be mainstream again, but it’s a growing niche,” says Michael Fremer, senior contributing editor for Stereophile magazine. (He owns 15,000 vinyl records.) “When a former vinyl listener reconnects, he or she says, ‘I remember that sound. That’s what I’m missing!’ And a new generation is discovering that vinyl sounds better and represents tunes sequenced as the artist wishes, rather than as a series of random events.

“I doubt kids will look back in 50 years and say, ‘I remember when I downloaded that!’ The forward-looking young people are going for vinyl editions of their important music.”

The End

Those of us who fell for the Great Lie will never fully recover. My distraught friend from the used-record store is right: we’ll spend the rest of our days trying to re-create our old collections, Ancient Mariners roaming the earth, our MP3 players slung about our necks like albatrosses.

But there will be the inevitable reunions with long-lost LP friends, the rush of anticipation when the needle hits that groove, and the exquisite moment when the music plays, warm and full, punctuated with the pops and crackles of passing time. ;