It seems like only yesterday, I was drunkenly stumbling through the York Road McDonald's parking lot telling anyone who would listen that I would be dead by the time I was twenty-five.  Stupid me.  I hadn't even graduated university by the time I was twenty-five (I wonder if it had anything to do with the drunken stumbling?).  I suppose if you judged by my high-risk behavior in those years, I had an even chance of being right.  I am fortunate that I was wrong.  I am most fortunate that I grew up before any of my stupid behaviors resulted in truly unfortunate outcomes.  The fates look out for children, drunks, and fools, and I have been one or more at any given time in my life.
I bring up this parking lot moment because I think about it often.  Why did I feel that way?  I suppose, on one hand, I was just being a drunken loud mouth.  On another hand (we're dealing with more that two hands here--Shiva-logic), I imagine I was exhibiting a youthful dread of the future; on yet another hand, I was embracing the Romantic notion of "living fast and dying young." Whatever reason I may have had for this remark, it has never left me.  This is a noteworthy phenomenon, since I have very little reputation for remembering things said or done, be they ten minutes or ten years ago.  Just ask Monkey.
The point here being, for every year I click past that arbitrarily portended twenty-five, I thumb my nose at my young and stupid self.  It isn't like I have done anything special.  All I have done is manage another lap around the sun.  Billions of others have done it, as well.  It's not special.  Except that it is.
I would rather not spend your time (and mine) pontificating on the preciousness of life.  I am not going to tell you that I am a "carpe diem" kind of guy.  I spend too much time reading to expect anyone to believe that.  I am not a grab life by the horns, bungee-jumping, bull-running thrill seeker.  However, I am happy every day to wake up and get another shot at being me.
Since that break point of twenty five, I have managed to do some things that I am proud of, I have managed to find a career that is worth doing every day, I have found a person worth being with every day, and, most of all, I have begun to learn who I am.  It takes a while.  At least, it's taken me a while.  And, best of all, the more I get to know myself, the easier it is to know and understand others.  This, too, like aging itself, is no great feat.  Anyone can do it, but not everyone does.  I guess I am just happy to be able.
Anyway, I am forty, today.  According to Vital Statistics, I have about thirty years left.  That's a bit sobering, but, using my grandparents as examples, I think I'll have a few more than that.  Of course, it's not how much you have in front of you, so much as it is what you do with what you have.  Today, I am going to a movie and eating some Indian food.  And, I am going to enjoy as much as I humanly can.
 
 
3 comments:
Happy birthday, old man!
Hey, I remember you from that McDonald's parking lot! I was like, who's this "end is near" fool and why's he trying to steal my crack fries?! Do you remember how I slapped you upside the head with a chicken nugget and told you always to remember this moment on all future birthdays? And always to put fashion first? It was what you might call a real-world problem.
Wow, I've always wondered who that guy was and what happened to him. Finally, now I know....
Happy birthday, Reda! I'm glad to have helped influence 25-year-old you and, on another Shiva hand, to know 40-year-old you.
Anon AMVB
Happy Birthday Tony.
And holy shit...that BEARD!!!! You are even more legit at 40 than you were at 39.
Keep kickin' ass.
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