Crush: Hundred and fifty, and still young, dude. Rock on.
Posted on 03/08/2008 9:43:28 AM PST by andy58-in-nh
On Turning 50
Okay, so I'm 50 years old today, and the only reason I bring it up is because, well, actually there are two reasons. The first is because for a person to have lived half a century is really an accomplishment, especially if you lived as dangerously as I chose to in my youth. I no longer do many of the things I was doing way back then, such as drinking beer and chasing women all night long, drag racing my Dad's Pontiac, and smoking enough wacky weed to deforest half of Colombia. So: thank you, dear Lord for protecting me from myself, the police, and angry husbands, and not necessarily in that order.
The other reason I bring it up in this forum is because of our cultural obsession with endless youth. When I tell people I'm turning 50, one of the most common responses I receive is something like: "Well, you know, '50' is the new 40". Gee, thanks. And of course that must mean 40 is the "new 30". The problem with this popular point of view is not simply that we're all trying to escape the fact of our growing older, but that, culturally speaking, we continue to revere youth over experience. Which is further proof to me that the 1960s is the only decade in history to have lasted over 40 years.
We are all aware that people (read: Baby Boomers) spend a fortune trying to recover the person they used to see in the mirror through whatever medical means they can afford or obtain. Liposuction and Botox. Minoxidil and Metamucil. Cialis and Viagra. Laurel and Hardy.
If you got that last one, you're at least as old as I am, and probably older. So there. See, the concern I have with aging is not that 50 is the new 40, but that 20 appears to be the new 10. Our culture so reveres youth and inexperience that childishness now runs rampant. If you don't believe me, listen to most of our politicians for a few minutes, if you can stand to. Not only do they treat us like children, they frequently sound like them as well. In their incessant demands for our attention and protection from life's little boo-boos, the average (and need I say, "Liberal") congressman sounds increasingly like a 2-year old in a supermarket aisle whose mom is too busy yakking on her cell phone to keep the little darling from screaming and ripping boxes off the shelves. And while most shoppers just make faces and cover their ears, few dare to ever confront Just-Too-Busy Mom with the suggestion that perhaps it would be a good time to impose a little, you know, discipline on the little tyke.
A healthy swat on the rump might be a good idea. In the old days, it would have been a no-brainer. But no: in these more "enlightened" times, some busybody Baby Boomer Do-gooder might call the cops, and then Mom will have to spend her valuable cell phone time explaining to a bunch of strangers why she shouldn't be charged with child abuse. So Mom continues her yakking and the cute little emerging sociopath continues to throw a fit, and we all just look away and try to get out of the place as expeditiously as possible.
So now you know: I'm 50 and I'm officially a cranky older guy who doesn't understand why things can't be the way they were when I was a kid. Except for the part about drinking and racing and chasing skirts, that is. At least I got it out of my system, which is to say, I grew up. On the other hand, I do wonder whether a lot of other folks today will ever reach anything approaching true responsibility and maturity. Of course, many have, and will. I know that FReepers recognize such people instinctively. We call them "Conservatives". Tonight, I'm going out for dinner with my family for some good Italian food and red wine (not too much, though; acid reflux, you know) and then enjoy a nice cigar in my den before snuggling with the wife.
What the heck. Life is good.
“50 isn’t old.... if you’re a tree”
LOL. Sounds like the old Miss America question: “If you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?” Personally, I like oaks: it’s the best hard wood around.
There are any number of 80+ year olds who would be 50 again in a minute.
Good wine ages well. You just have to keep in mind how wonderful it is to NOT be 21.
And Happy Birthday.
Happy Birthday, Andy
:)
Crush: Hundred and fifty, and still young, dude. Rock on.
Take a few tours down memory lane....
Pop Culture:
http://retrocrush.buzznet.com/archive2007/boxofglory/
Jukebox:
http://www.tropicalglen.com/
Bad Recipes:
http://www.lileks.com/institute/gallery/spec.html
Yes, life is good. And that’s why we call today the present—because it is a gift from God.
You have lived in the best fifty years of American history in the best country on the planet.
Welcome to the plus fifty side of life—this is when life really begins.
Make the most of each day. Many don’t get the privilege of making it to fifty.
And the water really is fine, so jump in.
Do you still have your hair?
Funny you listed tropicalglen.com—I have it playing in the background right now. 1961.
~Happy Birthday!!~
The two of us sat alone, and enjoyed very pleasant conversation for an hour. Although I'm certain he knew, I never acknowledged that he was a superstar, or that I was a fan.
It was very kool, and one the more interesting experiences I've had.
I have shared this story with several people. Most of the time I'm met with blank expressions, and "Tony who?".
Young people piss me off. Happy birthday.
From here on it is important to be taciturn, nod your head and say wise things.
Yeah, I’m 53 and can relate to the wild and impetuous youth and the changes that take place through life. As Bowie once said, “Ch-ch-ch-changes”, less we forget. Have a happy birthday!
Stay off the internet health sites.
There are any number of 80+ year olds who would be 50 again in a minute.
Good wine ages well. You just have to keep in mind how wonderful it is to NOT be 21.
And Happy Birthday.
Hickory is the hardest wood... - Start of the coolest ditty that I ever read on a restroom wall. Not work safe...
And although I still can't stop looking at the babes, I've grown old enough that I would have to really chase them cause they certainly aren't running to me ..
Yes, but now it's on my back
LOL. Thank you; and of course I remember Tony Curtis. He was a son of Hungarian Jewish immigrants; I was the grandson of the same crazy bunch.
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