Wow. Today I turned fifty years old. My life used to be about drugs, fast women and hot cars. Now, the drugs are prescription for seizures, the fast woman in my life is my wife who beat me to the finish in just about every race we have done, and I still miss my hot 1967 Camaro.My theme songs used to be "Born to be Wild" and "Life in the Fast Lane". Now, it feels like "I was born to be Mild" and people flash their lights at me to let them pass when I'm in the fast lane. I used to look like George Clooney, now I look like Andy Rooney.
In my high school yearbook there is a note from my sweetheart that alludes to all of the mushy stuff I wrote in her yearbook. I don't have a clue what I wrote! There is another comment from a girl who apparently had a crush on me (yes, that's been a theme throughout my life) gushing about the good times we shared and hoping we would keep in touch throughout the summer. I don't have a clue who she is!
The passing of time has been immortalized in fiction, non-fiction, art, music, poetry, songs, movies -even television commercials. Half my life has now passed (I'm planning on living to be exactly 100 years old). The summer of youth has faded and fall is upon me. As the leaves outside turn shades of gold, red and yellow they become a harbinger of the aging process that is now on my horizon. How old is 50? I'm just a few weeks younger than this thing that most of you probably don't know what it is or why it is so significant:
This is kind of amusing, immersing myself in melancholy meanderings in an attempt to engender your compassion and kind words. But lest you think the cold tentacles of old age are squeezing the life out of me, let me assure you that I've still got plenty of pep to go a few rounds with the Grim Reaper!
Rather than being depressed about this milestone I look at my life in wonderment. It's amazing who I've become, where I've been, what I've done - and what yet I want to do. My life has turned out to be nothing like I envisioned in my youth. When at last I become a lion in winter (hat tip to Winston) I'm sure that I will look at the second half of my life with this same kind of marvel.
Until then, I'll make a reference to my Rosebud (surely you have watched Citizen Kane, have you not?!?). Here's the teaser - the only two people who may even have an inkling of what my Rosebud is are my mom and sister. Ready mom and Jan? Think back to our days at Lake Shasta.
The object is round and plastic. That's it! That's all you get. If you guess my 
Rosebud, I'll take ou both to dinner at a fine eating establishment, one of my favorite Mexican food restaurants that has been a theme throughout my life. You will have to tender a guess as to which one I'm referring to.
Rosebud, I'll take ou both to dinner at a fine eating establishment, one of my favorite Mexican food restaurants that has been a theme throughout my life. You will have to tender a guess as to which one I'm referring to.
