If you know me, you know I hate birthdays.
Given the option of having a birthday and NOT having one; I’ll gladly take the former. But I wish that the accompanying birthday didn’t bring the older age with it.
I joke about being “perpetually 19” to my wife. I’m “young at heart”; I’m still just a “big kid” and I can still “hang” with the “young crowd” at the clubs. I listen to “today’s music”; I keep my hair a little long, and I’m Internet savvy–I know what’s “viral” out on the web.
But, I’m in my 40s. I’m getting old.
I’m already a Grandfather. My back goes out every now and then. Sometimes I wake up sore for no apparent reason. Every once in a while, I go to sleep before 10PM. And dammit, sometimes I “check out” a girl walking down the street and realize that I just committed a felony in my imagination.
Today I turn 46. I enter the back side of the 40s. I’m headed to 50.
This should cause me some pain. I mean, that on most birthdays I lament about the things I haven’t done yet. Or worry about if I will ever do all the things I want to do.
Yesterday I was telling a co-worker about an episode in my life and I made the comment that I suppose I have collected quite a few stories over my lifetime; and that maybe I was getting to a point where I would be just telling the old stories and not creating any new ones.
That’s the probably the STUPIDEST thing I have ever said. Sure, I hate birthdays and I don’t like getting older; but it’s not like I’m already 92 years old.
I’m embarking on a comedy career at about the same age as Rodney Dangerfield started. He was making movies in his 60s with young attractive females and getting paid for it.
I was born when MY DAD was FIFTY!
Dad said it wouldn’t have happened except that he got a long-distance phone call in the middle of the night and the phone was on Mom’s side of the bed.
If Dad could tell that story in his “Fifties”, then I’m sure I have more stories to create while still in my “Forties”.
So, yeah…I’m gonna fight growing older tooth and nail; and I’m still gonna hate birthdays; but I’m not dead yet. The birthdays keep coming and I guess I’m still gonna be “perpetually 19” for a while.
Besides, sometimes a cute girl in a club does look over at me and give me a flirtatious smile…and yeah, sometimes she is of legal age.
And when that happens, I’ve got another story to tell.