Thoughts at Large: Fiddy!

As I was putting together the "About Me" page, one of the statistics that I wrote was: "age 50." 

Sure -- makes perfect sense, right? Age is one of the first things we use to describe ourselves, and that's how old I am right now.

But I kind of did a double-take when I read it back:  50.  Fifty.  Five-zero.  Fiddy!

Wow...  How'd that happen?  It seems like just yesterday I was turning thirty.

Not that I'm griping about being old.  I've always been fine with whatever age I am -- each stage of my life has brought me interesting experiences and unique events, and I like to look forward rather than backwards.  I enjoyed my twenties.  My thirties were great.  And my forties were filled with some of the best living I've ever done.   So I have no interest in going backwards.  I'm eager to see what my fifties bring, too.

I guess it's all in how you think about it.  I don't feel old.  I still feel inside pretty much like I did when I was in my thirties. Hopefully a little wiser.  But not significantly different, at least not in any way that seems obvious to me.

And '50' is just a number -- whether its 'old' or 'young' is a matter of perspective. 

The Galapagos tortoises are known to live over 175 years, and there are many living things that are thousands of years old.  A Great Basin Bristlecone Pine known as 'Methuselah' is 4,842 years old, according to core samples.  There's even a creosote bush in the Mojave called 'King Clone'  that's estimated at 11,700 years old!

Compared to these things, I'm just a newborn. 

At the other end of the scale, the common house mouse lives for 3-4 years.  Fruit flies live for about 10-20 days.  Compared to them, I've lived many, many lifetimes. 

It's all relative.

So I'm fiddy.  Kinda surprising to me in some ways, but I'm cool with it.  I don't foresee anything radical; no mid-life crisis here.  I'm not going to get a toupee and a sports car.  First off, I don't need a toupee, and even if I was losing my hair, that would be OK and I wouldn't spend money on fake hair. And second, I can't afford a sports car, and even if I could, I can think of a lot better ways to spend that money, too. 

So don't expect anything too out-of-character. 

But, now that I think about it:  Since turning fifty, I have started writing more, and I've created this blog.  So maybe this is my mid-life crisis. 

Not much of one, I guess.  Sorry there's not more craziness and drama here for you to enjoy. 

I guess I'll just have to put the crazy drama into my writing.