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.
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.
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