So I’ve been gone for a few days and while it’s good to get away from the day-to-day shit at home, it’s always good to eventually get back home… and have your pissed off cat start biting on your feet.
We ventured out onto the highways and byways to celebrate my baby’s mother’s birthday… but there were two others there who were also celebrating their birthdays… and with the exception of maybe three or four people at the cookout, wow, it was kinda bugging me out to realize that I was one of the oldest people there… and with all the little kids running all over the place, well, for a moment, I really did feel old.
So while we were ripping and running all over the place, in the back of my mind, I was thinking about turning 57, what it all means, stuff like that. I did enjoy the looks I got when I was asked how old I was; I was even rather amused to learn that some of the folks we were hanging out with actually thought I was older than my baby is – but I’m not – and their amazed looks were precious.
Yet I don’t ‘feel’ old – and maybe that’s a good thing. I find that I am looking forward to turning 57, more so since when we got home and got the computers cranked up, one of the first things that got my attention was the death of 54-year-old Michael Clark Duncan; seeing this makes me a great deal more grateful for my life and that, for the most part, I’m pretty damned healthy. I liked him as an actor and just loved that deep voice.
There’s nothing like having a five-year-old giving you the business to make you feel young and alive… even if she doesn’t have a credit card. Trust me, you just had to be there to understand this one. Being able to interact with someone that young is such a good thing… even if it was determined that she has girl cooties. It reminds you to do your best to be as carefree as possible and to not over-complicate your life; it reminds you that life is supposed to be fun.