Birthday meditation: The Song of a Geezer
Tomorrow I will be 55 years-old.
I share the date with Bob Hope, JFK and Patrick Henry, By the way, Vincent Pice and Christopher Lee are on May 27 and Peter Cushing on May 26.
I didn't feel any trepidation at 30 or 40 or 50. No big deal.
This one feels very different. I think it's because 55 is a retirement age for many folks – military, police, fire, state employees. It is literally a second chapter for many people.
Needless to say I won't be retiring any time soon.
What also concerns me is how close 55 is to 60. And that is a number that concerns me.
As a diabetic, even though my numbers are good, I will be dropping dead sooner than I should. So I have an even more limited time to git r done, in the parlance of the day.
So I have to worker harder to find a home for some books, figure out what my next career move should be – if there is one – and generally not waste any time.
That is the rub as many times I wonder just why I am forced to give up chucks of my increasingly valuable time to non-productive, non-fun pursuits.
At times I don't feel older. I'm glad I'm the age I am. Other times I admit to wanting to strangle people younger than me – much younger – who treat me as some sort of clueless old fart unaware of today's popular culture and fashion.
Screw them. Their pop culture frequently stinks.
I guess sometimes the dark side of the force is what keeps me going. I want to live a long productive life just to piss those folks off by my continuing existence.
Heh, heh, heh.
But if a bus hits me tonight, I'll go wherever knowing I've had a great life with a wonderful wife, a supportive family, a loving foster daughter and grandkids, some great friends and the satisfaction of actually doing a bunch of stuff I wanted to do. I didn't make much money, but at least I still have most of my hair and low blood pressure.
Hey, where's my cake from my favorite Italian bakery? I double up on the insulin. It's my birthday, dammit!
© 2009 by Gordon Michael Dobbs