Thoughts on 35

People always say that turning 30 is a big deal, but 30 didn't really phase me. Let's see... I turned 30 in 2004. W was running for reelection. I was too busy hoping he would be reelected than to even remember now what I did for my 30th birthday.

It was one of those days that was just another day.

My 20s are a blur. Despite the fact I can't remember what I did on my 25th birthday, it was a milestone because I got my auto insurance break. I do remember that on my 21st birthday, my buddy Blake and I went to Applebee's where they burned my steak.

16 and 18 are milestones for anyone, but I can't remember what I did on either birthday - other than became old enough to get my license and then old enough to vote.

What's happening to my memory?

I don't know in another 35 years if I will remember what I did today on my 35th birthday. If Blogspot is still around and this blog is, then I guess I can go back through the archives. That's an interesting picture -- me blogging at age 70. That's if my senility holds.

If I remember this birthday for anything it will be for just feeling old.

My wife and I helped administer the SAT this morning. At one point, I realized that most of the kids there were born in 1992 or 1993. I graduated high school in 1992 and now they're about to do the same this time next year.

I feel old.

The little kindergarten girl whose picture I took with David Beasley in James M. Brown Elementary School's library on the first day of school on my first favorite day of being a newspaper reporter in 1997 could have been one of those students in my classroom today - and is probably excited about next year being her last year of school.

I feel old.

I dare say all the kids in my classroom this morning were born after our first foray into Iraq - after we turned tail and ran home, leaving the job unfinished for another 12 years.

But the world changes. Styles change, cultures change, attitudes change, leadership changes, music changes, technology changes, idols change and seasons change. But the one thing we can always count on is getting older.

As I listened to and took pictures of one of our professors at the college I work at teaching one of his religion courses recently, he asked "Who here can tell me about David Koresh and the Branch Dividians?" The room was silent. I remember the whole Waco thing going down on TV - sitting in the dorm room and watching the news clips of the fire and the entrance into the compound.

I feel old.

There are a few grays here and there. It's a little harder to get up off the ground now. My knees feel it when I get up from standing on them to shoot photos. I don't feel nearly as conscious about wearing my glasses.

I still drive fast though - and I'm as impatient as ever. I don't think even with age either of those qualities will change.

My metabolism has changed. I used to be able to put down a whole pizza plus more. Now I generally stop at about 5 slices.

I get ornery easier. I can't stay awake as late as I used to on a regular basis - I find myself falling asleep to the TV more and more (thanks Dad for that gene). I will actually listen to NPR now. And I don't mind Barry Manilow as much as I did when I was little.

What really bugs me (because it fosters that feeling of being old more than anything) is that they now consider 80s msuic - the music I grew up with - as oldies. Turn to an oldies station now and you've got a mix of Bobby Darin, The Supremes, CCR, and Tears for Fears or Rick Springfield. What is up with that?

I'm now my favorite Jimmy Buffet song - "A Pirate Looks At (or will be in five years) 40". I guess that's not a bad thing. Age brings wisdom. One of the few benefits. I do try to impart some here and there when I have the chance. Not that many people probably care what I have to say. If I wore jeans and a black t-shirt all the time and spoke with a British accent, I could be Simon Cowell. Not many people really care what he thinks. Although he's right a lot more than the other judges.

Nobody likes to think of their own mortality. But hopefully I have at least another 35 years of getting older ahead of me.

OK, now I feel tired from writing all of this -- where's the Geritol?