Well here's one for the record books kiddies: last Sunday I turned a bright and sunshiny 40 years old! Yeah I know, in the overall scope of the steaming sack of grandeur we all lovingly refer to as the universe my little wannabe-Bigfoot ass managing to survive for four decades isn't really that big of a whoop, but hey, it's my blog and I'll wax introspective if I want to.
But I don't want to, trust me. Sorry if I scared anyone there.
They say that turning 40 is supposed to be some kind of milestone, as if you've officially reached the age where you're old enough to know better or some such shit. Folks, I'm as sorry as I can be to have to tell you this but you're favorite emotional twelve-year old here didn't magically awake to some form of transcendental maturity. Actually, if memory serves, all I did actually awake to that morning was a gentle reminder that it's not yet time for Viagra and a need to take the dogs outside so they'd let me get a few more minutes of sleep. Yes I know, too much information by a long shot, but dammit I'm given to understand that at 40 these things are to be celebrated. Kind of like buying the inevitable Ferrari or just barely of age girlfriend. Classy I know, but hey, since when have we devolved into bullshitting each other here?
Okay, other than that time...
Fact is, I remember throwing my father an "Over the Hill" party when he turned 40. I don't feel over the hill, and come to think about it I'm beginning to seriously doubt he did at the time either. I'm still accomplishing things in my life: I made the commitment to and then competed in my first powerlifting meet this year, I managed to figure out where I apparently belong in this world, and as-God-as-my-witness my third book will be out one of these freakin' days!
I will say this, however. Turning 40 did give me a moment of pause to reflect. Not over my life mind you; years one thru twenty-nine don't really hold much of merit at this point in the game. Nope, I actually had to take a moment and take account of my thirties. I realized that I started my last decade at the end of a shit-ridden marriage and a job that was killing me probably faster than I want to even think about. I'm still not sure exactly how I pulled it off but over the course of the last decade I managed to find the career I'm actually good at, the exact perfect woman to marry (Lord if I didn't hold some auditions though), and the place in this world that I not only call home but where I actually am home.
I'm reminded a little bit of the Tim McGraw song "My Next Forty Years" while I sit here and type this. The song is basically a list of the things he hopes to do better in the second half of his life. For those of you that know me well personally this will probably make more sense than it may to those who know me through the blog or through my books but for the "next forty" I'd like to steal a page out of the movie "Legends of the Fall" and finally come into the quiet part of my life. I've had the first 40 to make, try to fix, and hopefully learn from my many mistakes. Now is the time I can hopefully move forward and finally build the life I've always wanted.
Although I have to admit that I am looking forward to pulling the mirror stunt from "This is 40" on my wife. Just for g.p. After all, sometimes it's still fun just to hear her yell "ewwwww!"
(And by the way, just so it's out there, NO THE BEARD IS NOT A MIDLIFE CRISIS. I'm just furry by nature and finally gave up fighting it. That and to be honest is was the cheapest way to offset the age related ugly!)
Have a great one folks and talk to you soon!
