Blogging every day is easy and not just because I love to write but because there are endless stories to share, to tell and seek out.
Flip through the blog and you’ll find posts about why Daylight Savings Times exists, what benefits you receive as president, how much it cost to build the Death Star and how to make hardboiled eggs.
The Importance of Half Birthdays
November 9th will mark my half birthday upon which I will officially turn 43.5. That makes me ancient to some of you and a baby to others.
If I didn’t have children I don’t know if I would notice half birthdays but they are important to them and hence I notice. These youngsters of mine ask if I feel old or notice the years and I say only years like 43 where I get to be a prime number.
I say that I don’t notice but I suspect the truth is I am more cognizant of the years than I want to admit. I attribute it to two things:
- Ego. I don’t like some of the changes that have come with age. Irks me to see some of the guys I play ball with outdo me. Years back they never could have, but there comes a revolution.
- I am more driven than ever to check off a few things on the list of accomplishments and objectives and more aware of time. There is so much I want to do and less time to do it than before.
I am part of Generation X. Used to hate the label and was more than irritated with all of the stupid articles about how different we were from the Baby Boomers and the generation before. Used to roll my eyes when I heard how we grew up sheltered, entitled and were unwilling to work hard.
Now I listen to people describe the millenials in the same terms and nod my head. Can’t decide if that makes me a hypocrite or if this time it is accurate.
But I do know there are some things you can’t learn in school and that even a few years in the work force isn’t always enough to figure out some of this stuff.
When Did I Become This Guy
My oldest is going to be Bar Mitzvahed next year. It is a big deal and a significant accomplishment. I am tearing out what little hair I have trying to figure out how to come up with some cash to pay for it all.
It is not going to be a crazy-over-the-top party. It wouldn’t be if I was a billionaire. I don’t believe in that kind of thing nor think it is appropriate, but I need to do something because it is important.
My son deserves it, but it is going to take some doing to make it happen.
We’ll see if Jack The Elder is the Superhero his kids think he is. I guess this helps to explain how I found my first two real gray hairs today.
A Secret Handshake
My daughter is eight going on thirty. She was born a few minutes before midnight and I’ll never forget it.
It was two days after my father had a triple bypass. His surgery was the culmination of his beating the odds, docs said he would probably die and he didn’t. It is another piece of the puzzle that made me a blogger.
I remember watching my daughter emerge and walking with her and the nurse to the Pyrex incubator she was placed in. Nurse cleaned her up and I stuck out my right index finger.
She looked up at me and wrapped her entire hand around my finger. I told her I was her daddy, said I love you to her in person and promised to take care of her.
That became our secret handshake. Sometimes she walks up to me and silently grabs my finger. Sometimes people think she is trying to pull it and run away in anticipation of what might happen, but they couldn’t be farther from the truth.
I Never Owned A Mustang
I never did own a Mustang. I started with ’77 Chevy Impala station wagon, moved to a ’69 Dodge Dart Swinger, went back to the Impala and then to a ’77 Camaro.
Loved the Camaro, last year of the steel bumper and ever so much fun to drive. There were other cars and many more stories that happened before, during and after the times I have referred to.
Some might say I fought a balrog in the Mines of Moria and that I came out victorious. Others might argue no such thing happened and that I played a different role in the affairs of Middle Earth.
Perhaps we’ll save those tales for publication elsewhere and perhaps they’ll never be shared.
“If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber’d here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
If you pardon we will mend.
Else the Puck a liar call.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends.”
Puck- A Midsummer Night’s Dream