Sometime during the middle of this month, I will enter a room either at Youngblood Manor or at some equally exotic locale and be feted with balloons. Alas, they are likely to be black.
That’s how family members and so-called friends help you “celebrate” turning the big 6-5. They also make a point to talk to you loudly and slowly, as if qualifying for Medicare is something that suddenly renders you deaf and less-than-quick on the … on the … on the … oh, yeah, on the uptake.
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Then, everyone will chuckle, mainly because they’re not the ones turning half a 130, and someone will ask just what it’s like to officially become old.
Well … here’s what it’s like:
As of the month preceding said birthday party, I still realized that I split an infinitive two paragraphs prior. Longtime grammarian that I am, I cringe to think that I wrote “to officially become,” knowing full well that the last two words should be inverted, even if nobody bothers to worry about that any more.
I also realized that people do worry about a lot of silly things, such as whether Aggies are better than Longhorns, or whether my abs are flatter than your abs, or whether there’s even a remote chance that what I say on social media about politics will actually convert the heathens on the other side of the aisle.
Here’s my take on that latter point: Because I’m about to be 65, I’ve been party to 13 presidents, and my life has not appreciatively or depreciatively changed under any of them – at least to a degree that has inspired me to yearn for a move to Japan.
What has changed my life, for the better, are the relationships I’ve attained and grown over time. My parents set in motion the “me” that I am now. My wife made “me” even better. My four children took a small part of “me” and enhanced it and then made “me” as happy as I’ve ever been when they placed grandchildren in my arms a few moments following their births. My friends are pretty special, too.
Because of my chosen profession, I’ve been blessed to visit with the likes of Bob Hope, Jack Nicklaus, Tom Landry and Van Cliburn. Actually, I have visited with Bob Hope, Jack Nicklaus, Tom Landry and Van Cliburn.
I’ve read a lot of great books and even written an acceptable one. I’ve watched movies that made me laugh and cry. I’ve sung along to songs by Jiles Perry “The Big Bopper” Richardson, Paul McCartney, Leonard Cohen and Stuart Townend.
I’ve seen a Broadway show, and I’ve “starred” in the ninth grade production of “Wildcat Willie McGillicutty.” I have to admit: The latter was a lot of fun.
So will be, I suspect, whatever transpires during the middle of this month. In fact, I plan to … to … to … oh, yeah, to cherish every moment of it.
